Skip to main content

Full text of "Early English poetry, ballads, and popular literature of the Middle Ages ;"

See other formats



-SOill£jLy_r Early 

Southern Branch 
of the 

University of California 

Los Angeles 

Form L-1 

TM \ \ O V 

iiiio Muun 10 uui. uii laoi uaic oiaiiipcu uciun 

^ercp ^otitt^. 

















" Quaint old themes, 

Even in the city's throng." 

Longfellow's Voices of the ?\igh t. 



Orouncil, 1845-6. 


THOMAS AMYOT, Esq. F.R.S. Treas. S A. 

.T. O. HALLIWELL, Esq. F.R.S., F.S.A. 
T. .1. PETTIGREW, Esq. F.R.S., F S.A 
W. .1. THOMS, Esq. F.S.A. 

THO.MAS WRIGHT, Esq. M.A.F.S.A , St-nmiury 
and Trcaxurer. 


It was my original intention to have appended the 
songs from the mayoralty pageants of London, 
contained in this volume, to the volume on Lord 
Mayors' Pageants published by the Percy Society 
in 1843-4, so that this may be considered as the 
third and concluding part of the collections on 
that subject. I have however not restricted 
myself now, as I should have done before, to those 
only to be found in pageants expressly devoted to 
London's chief magistrate, but have added several 
from pageants designed to entertain royalty when 
it honoured the city with its presence. It must 
be allowed that many of these songs possess but 
little poetical merit; they are chiefly curious as 
specimens of the taste and feeling of the day ; but 
they derive an historic interest from the great 
occasions in the celebration of which they were 
composed. In many Instances, too, they vividly 
picture forth, in coarse and homely phrase enough, 
the opinions, political and religious, held in the 
capital of the kingdom. In some instances the 
freedom of expression is rather surpi*ising; but 
this also is characteristic of the times. Thus, 
U h 

when Charles the Second and his queen were en- 
tertained with the Waterman's Song, printed in 
this collection, p. 34, the author tells us: — "The 
song ended, and upon their majesties drawing near, 
one of the watermen boldly steps forward, and 
expresseth himself to their majesties in these 
words, — ' Haul in, haul in, for the lionour of your 
calling, and be hang'd ; do you know your fellows 
no better ? I have something to say for the good 
of ye all : God blesse thee, King Charles, and thy 
good woman there, a blest creature she is, I war- 
rant thee, and a true. Go thy wayes for a wagg ! 
thou hast had a merry time on't in the west ; I 
need say no more ; a word to the wise — thou un- 
derstand'st me ; much good may it do thee, fall too 
and welcome ; the devil take the grudger ! But 
dost hear me, don't take it in dudgeon that I am 
so familiar with thee ; thou mayst rather take it 
kindly, for I am not alwayes in this good humour ; 
though I thee thee and thou thee, I am no quaker, 
take notice of that ; he tliat does not love thee in 
his heart, may he be drawn in a cart ; God blesse 
me, that rime has put me in mind of the old poet 
my brother Avaterraan.* Have at ye, i'faith ! if I 
have any guts in my brains I Fll give you a dish 

* John Taylor the Water-Poet, so named from having 
been a Thames wateniian. He composed the mayoralty 
pageant for 1G34. 


of poetry to stay your stomach 'till you get further; 

a distich or two does it : 

We in our hearts do foster no deceipt, 
They and our tongues simplicity do meet, 
As sands and fishes are thought numberless, 
So may our joyes be pregnant, and increase. 

And so God speed you well." 

The very great rarity of the descriptive pamphlets 
of London pageants can only be accounted for by 
the temporary interest they excited. The original 
editions were not small, and they appeared on all 
occasions. In the Satires of Henry Fitzgeffery, 
1617, mention is made how 

" Carelesse, fearlesse pamphlets fly about, 
Bookes made of ballades ; workes of playes, 
Sights to be read of my lo. maior's days." 

and he previously speaks of the eagerness with 
which descriptive accounts are got up and pub- 
lished : 

" Be there a city show, or sight at court." 

Since the publication of my collections on Lord 
Mayors' Pageants, in which I included a brief de- 
scription of all I could then discover in any public 
or private library, Mr. Pearson has obtained one by 
Thomas Middleton hitherto unpublished, and which 
is printed entire in the second volume of the Shak- 
spere Society's Pcqyers. It is entitled " The Triumphs 
of Honor and Virtue," and was written by Mid- 
dleton for the mayoralty of the Rt. Hon. Peter 



Proby, of the grocer's company, in 1622. The 
pageants for 1621 and 1623 I have already de- 
scribed ; and this supplies the missing one. Two 
pageants were exhibited on the water, the Throne of 
Virtue, and the Continent of India. They add to 
the show by hind, and are stationed on the mayor's 
return, at different places. St. Paul's church- 
yard is the abiding-place of the Continent of India ; 
this was the trade-pageant^ and was " replenished 
with all manner of spice-plants and trees bearing 
odour." A black personage, representing India, 
is seated on a bed of spices, attended by Indians 
in antique habits, " Commerce, Adventure, and 
Traffic, three liabited like merchants, presenting 
to her view a bright figure, bearing the inscription 
of Knowledge, a sun appearing above the trees in 
brightest splendour and glory." Middle ton tells 
us that " the three merchants placed in the Conti- 
nent have reference to the lord mayor and sheriffs, 
all three being this year brothers of this ancient 
and honourable Society." India addresses an ex- 
ceedingly complimentary speech to the mayor, who 
now proceeds to " the chariot of Fame, which 
awaits his honour''s approach near the little conduit 
in Cheap," where Antiquity again compliments 
him and the company to which lie belongs, and 
declares the honours they have received in his 
"golden register book." The Throne of Virtue is 

the next to confront the mayor near to Laurence- 
lane end, and here again compliments are rife. 
The mayor now reaches Guildhall, dines, and after- 
wards goes to St. Paul's, attended by " the whole 
state of the triumph," and so homeward. " In 
Soper Lane two parts of the triumph stand ready 
planted ; viz. the Throne of Virtue^ and the Glohe of 
Honour.'''' This last pageant, which, with the others, 
was the work of Gerard Christmas (whose inventive 
genius and clever execution Is always lauded by 
the city poets, and has been frequently noticed by 
me elsewhere), is so exactly like what we constantly 
see upon the modern theatres, that it is not a little 
curious, particularly if Christmas was the original 
inventor of this " unparallclled master-piece of in- 
vention and art," as Middleton styles it. This 
*' Glohe suddenly opening, and flying into eight 
coats, or distinct parts, discovers in a twinkling 
eight bright personages most gloriously decked, 
representing as it were the inward man, the inten- 
tions of a virtuous and worthy breast by the graces 
of the mind and soul, such as Clear Conscience, 
Divine Speculation, Peace of Heart, Integrity, Watch- 
fulness, Equality, Providence, Impartiality, each 
exprest by its proper illustration. And because 
man's perfection can receive no constant attribute 
in this life, the cloud of Frailty ever and anon 
shadowing and darkening our brightest intentions, 


makes good the morality of those coats or parts, 
when they fall or close into the full round of a 
globe again, showing, that as the hrightest day has 
its overcastings, so the best men in this life have 
their imperfections ; and worldly mists oftentimes 
interpose the clearest cogitations, and yet that but 
for a season, turning in the end, like the mounting 
of this engine', to their everlasting brightness, con- 
verting itself to a canopy of stars." The four car- 
dinal virtues. Wisdom, Justice, Fortitude, and 
Temperance, are placed at the four corners, and 
Honour, " mounted on the top," explains all in a 
farewell speech to the mayor. 

I have myself obtained access to the very rare pa- 
geant for 1698 by Settle, and which is remarkable 
as being one of the only tivo containing engravings 
of the shows exhibite<l. It is entitled, " Glory ""s 
Resurrection, being the Triumphs of London re- 
vived, for the Inauguration of the Right Honour- 
able Sir Francis Child," of the Goldsmiths' Com- 
pany. Upon this occasion the place of meeting 
was Goldsmiths' Hall, and the procession passed 
thi'ough Cheaj)side to Three-Crane wharf, where 
they embarked for AVestminster, landing on their 
return at Dorset-stairs.* The first pageant, "The 

* See my " History of Lord Mayors' Pageants," Part I, 
p. 115, for the account given in the newspapers of the day, 
of their entertainment there by the Earl of Dorset. 


Amphitheatre of Union," was exhibited in Cheap- 
side ; it was a temple of the Corinthian order, on 
the angles of which were placed "four noble 
golden cuj^s, being part of the bearing of the com- 
panies arms." Union addresses a short and ami- 
cable speech to the Mayor. The second pageant 
is the Goldsmiths' Laboratory, where sits St. 
Dunstan, holding a pair of goldsmith's tongs in his 
right hand and a crozier in his left, while under 
his feet lies the devil. " On each side this noble 
seat,'" says Settle, " is plac'd Apollo and Esculapius 
his son, in their proper habits, bearing the city's 
and company's banners, and playing on several 
melodious instruments, as well for his lordship's 
diversion as to preserve a harmony and decorum 
among the artificers," who are all at work in the 
various processes of their trade around him. St. 
Dunstan thus commences his address to the Mayor, 

" The triumphs of this day, deserv'd so well, 
When fame shall iu recorded story tell. 

Those oracles of truth " 

Devil. ( Interriqning him.) Can you speak truth ? 
St. Dunstan. Peace, snarling devil ! Thus I'll stop your 
mouth ! {Catches him by the nose.) 

Down to thy hell, there croak, thou fiend accurst, 
See this great day, and, swell'd with envy, burst."* 

The third pageant is the chariot of justice, in 

* It was usual to act this legend whenever a mayor of the 
goldsmiths' company was inaugurated. It occurs in Jordan's 


which sits Astrea, holdlnG; in her risfht hand a 
touch-stone, and in her left a golden balance with 
silver scales. " At a descent beneath this goddess 
are placed Charity and Concord, as the necessary 
supporters of Justice ; and on a seat remote sits 
another virtue, called Truth, supporting the reins 
and guiding the chariot of Justice. This stately 
chariot is drawn by two unicorns, most exquisitely 
carved and gilded, with equal proportion to the 
life. On the backs of the two unicorns are mounted 
two beautiful young princes, one a Barbarian, the 
other an European, sounding forth the fame of the 
honourable company of goldsmiths. At the feet 
of these most noble creatures are seated four other 
virtues, as Prudence, Temperance, Courage, and 
Conduct, all properly attired, each holding a banner, 
display'd with the king's, the lord mayor's, the 
city's, and the company's arms." Astrea addresses 
a short complimentary speech to the mayor. 

The fourth and last pageant is " the Temple of 
Plonour," where he sits with Peace, Plenty, and 
Liberality ; and he also compliments the mayor. 
At each corner of the stage beneath, were placed 
impersonations of " the four principal rivers of 

pageant for Sir Robert Vyner, 1684. See "Lord Mayors' 
Pageants," Part I, p. 82^ for the descriptive passage. In the 
pageant for 1087, which Taubman had composed for Sii" John 
Shorter, the same scene was enacted. (See " Pageants," 
Part I, p. 1U3.) 


trade, as Tiber, Nile, Danube, and Thames." A 
song of three verses, composed for the feast in 
Guildhall, concludes the pamphlet ; it promises an 
increase of ti-ade and wealth to the city, owing to 
the peace effected by the prowess of William the 
Third : 

" Of war he has ended the toil and the pain, 
And William's work now is to smile and to reign." 

The four plates do not altogether accord with 
the author's description of the pageants they are 
supposed to delineate. Thus, the first exhibits a 
figure not answering to the description given of 
"Union," holding a bow and arrow, under a square 
canopy, not supported by Corinthian capitals, but 
by twisted pillars of a nondescript order. St. 
Dunstan is represented in his chair, without the 
devil, and unattended by the other personages 
named ; two goldsmiths, one weighing ore, and the 
other placing cups in the shop which forms the 
back-ground, are all that appear. The engraving 
altogether lacks vraisemhlance, and does not look 
like a fac-simile copy of any particular pageant. 
Both these plates are of the folio size of the pam- 
phlet ; the third one is a larger folding plate ; it is 
" the chariot of justice," and is inscribed " to the 
worshipfuU the Company of Goldsmiths, the prints 
of these Pageants, as a lasting monument of this 
year's triumphs, are humbly dedicated," and it is 

marked as "17 foot high." The fourth, "the 
Temple of Honour," answers the description pretty- 
well : it is very badly executed as a work of art, 
as are all the others except the Chariot of Justice, 
which is a remarkably spirited engraving, with a 
very broad effect, reminding one forcibly, in its 
style and treatment, as well as by the features of 
the faces, of the works of the celebrated Dutch 
engraver. Remain de Hooge, by whom it was very 
probably executed. It is copied in outline as a 
frontispiece to this book.* 

The Fishmongers"' company have, since the com- 
pletion of my little volume, published by subscrip- 
tion a series of fac-simile en2;ravin2;s from the 
very interesting drawings of Sir John Leman's 
pageant for 1616 in their possession, accompanied 
with descriptive letter-press, in an elegant folio 
volume. Their resemblance in structure to the 

* If the reader will turn to my " History of Lord Mayors' 
Pageants," Part I, p. 81, he will find that precisely the same 
pageant was exhibited in 1G74 ; and in p. 103 of the same 
volume it is described in the pageant for lf!87 identically as 
Settle now gives it ; in the notes and additions to Part I he 
will find a fiu'ther notice of the way in which these " stock- 
pageants" were repeated, and sometimes under new names, 
or with new figures introduced, which may account for the 
engravings of some of those above-named not exactly agreeing 
with the descriptions of the city laureate. They have evi- 
dently been executed by diflfcrent hands, and probably at 
different times. 


continental pageants I have described in the in- 
troduction to the first part of my own book is iden- 
tical ; the figures exhibited are all arranged on 
stages, and the machinery which moves them is 
concealed by hangings or painted cloths, like the 
Antwerp pageant engraved there. 

In the notes to the second part of the Pageants 
I have printed a song on the visit of King 
James I to St. Paul's in 1620, from a MS. in the 
})ossession of Dr. Rimbault, and which formerly 
belonged to John Gamble, a musician of whom I 
have given a brief notice in p. 35 of the present 
volume ; I may be excused for printing another 
curious song fi'om the same IMS. on the citizens"* 
neglect of their cathedral, as the Percy Society 
should be considered as peculiarly the guardians 
of all such ancient unpublished lyrics. 

The pureliuges of the citty, 
Both zealous men and witty, 

Inspired with the spirit of truth : 
Doe hould it for a great offence, 
To repayre a church with such expence, 

That hath beene superstitious all her youth. 

Lett ould Duke Humphrey and his crue 
Rise from their graves, and build it newe, 

That there long tyme did use to say their masses ; 
For they stood much upon good v/orkes, 
Which we esteeme farr less then Turkes, 

And those that doe them we terme them asses. 


Forsooth, all Papists aske us where 
Our churche was many a yeare 

Invisible, when theirs was in the height ; 
But let the poore deceived souls 
Look underneath the quier of Pauls, 

And they may see her holly fayth. 

There is noe bell nor organs there, 
To make a fearefull noyse to heare ; 

The surplis is not worne, nor yet the cope ; 
Noe choristers to make a noyse. 
We prayse the Lord without such toyes. 

By psalms and sermons preacht against the pope. 

There are not pictures to be seene. 
But only of our royall queene . 

Elizabeth, whose fame doth beare the bell, 
Her soul's in heaven, you may be sui'e. 
For though she died a virgin pure, 

She ne're deserved to lead apes in hell. 

The Scriptures all men freely read, 
Interpreting it for a neede 

Themselves, without a guide, and never feare it. 
Wee neede noe fathers to expound, 
Our doctrine is soe sure and sound 

That all men find it by their private spirit. 

I cannot chuse but laugh at those 

That seeke the Churche and doctrines gloss 

Upon the text, and dare not trust their owne. 
As if they knewe as well as wee. 
What without zeale doth best agree, [knowne. 

That wrought soe long before the Church was 

Now God preserve King Charles his life, 
For he hath gott a vertuous wife ; 

The match is broake with Spaync, I saw't in print, 
The Frenche match is goinge on amayno. 


If that should have broake as it did with Spayne, 
For my part, I should think the dcvill were in't.* 

Of Jacob Hall, the celebrated rope-dancer who 
was hired to figure before Charles II in the pa- 
geant for 1671, when he dined with the mayor, 
(see " Lord Mayors' Pageants," Part II, p. 138, 
and notes), a notice occurs in a poem " upon the 
stately structure of Bow Church and steeple," 
printed in the " Collection of Poems on affairs of 
State," vol. iv, p. 379, which would seem to prove 
that he was frequently seen in the mayoralty 

" When Jacob Hall on his high rope shews tricks, 
The dragon flutters,t the lord mayor's horse kicks ; 
The Cheapside crowds and pageants scarcely know 
Which most t' admire, Hall, hobby-horse, or Bow !" 

* The same MS. contains the following stanza set to music, 
which was written on Charles the First's peremptory dismissal 
of his queen's French servants, in the summer of 1626. They 
had so tired his patience, that in a letter to Buckingham he says, 
" I command you to send all the French away out of town. If you 
can by fair means, (but stick not long in disputing), other ways 
force them away like so many wild beasts, until ye have shipped 
them ; and so the devil go with them." 

Harke, I'le tell you newes from the court, 
Marke, tliese tbinges will make you good sport, 
All the French that lately did praunce 

There up and downe in bravery, 
Now are all sent backs to France, 

Kinge Charles hath smelt some knavery. 
Harke I how they call for helpe ! some porters is lacking ; 
Denmark House was full of packs, 
Sent away on porter's backs. 
+ Alluding to the dragon which forms tlie weather-cock of 
Bow Church. 

The guilds, or companies of tradesmen of all 
our large towns, were formerly distinguished by 
their public processions and pageants exhibited 
on the election of mayor, or the commemoration 
day of their patron saint. These have all gradu- 
ally fallen into disuse, or else lingered on until 
their original meaning was in some degree for- 
gotten.* The three most interesting of these 
ancient shows, which remain to us, are the guild 
processions of Coventry, Preston, and Shrews- 
bury. The Coventry tradesmen have always been 
celebrated for their love of shows since the days 
of the old mysteries, when each trade played one 
peculiar to itself, as did their fellow-traders of 
Chester. The guild procession of modern times 
was annually exhibited at Coventry, on the Friday 
in Trinity week, until within the last thirty years, 
but now it seldom occurs oftener than once in 
three or four years. The show commences with 
the city guards, dressed in ancient armour, and 
carrying spears ; then follows St. George in a 
complete suit of armour, on a horse, led by a 
youth in female attire, probably intended for 
Sabra, the king of Egypt's daughter, whom, 

* At Great Yarmouth, Norfolk, it was usual to place 
outside the Guildhall, on the mayor's feast, two puppets 
named John and Bess Joblet. Why they were so named or 
exhibited no one knew ; they were the last relic of some old 
commemoration or pageant. 


according to Richard Johnson''s veritable " History 
of the Seven Champions of Christendom," he saved 
from the dragon's devouring jaws. He is followed 
by musicians, and the high constable of the city, 
with his staff of office in his hand, preceding the 
centre of attraction, the Lady Godiva. A hand- 
some woman is always engaged to personate her 
ladyship ; she is clothed in a white linen dress, 
fitting close to her body, which is relieved by a 
variety of gay ornaments ; from her hair is sus- 
pended a si^lendid gauze scarf, she is also furnished 
with beautiful long ringlets, which flow in graceful 
luxuriance over great part of her body. She 
carries a large bunch of flowers in her hand, and 
rides on a cream-coloured horse, accompanied on 
either side by the city crier and beadle, on horse- 
back.* These men are remarked for their coats 
of two colours, the one side green, the other 
scarlet, to represent the bishopric of Coventry 
and Lichfield ; the badge of the city is borne on 
their left arms. The mayor and corporation fol- 
low on horseback, preceding the different trade 
companies of the city, who are each represented 
by a streamer, and a master or head of the com- 

* Though this guild procession is of very ancient date, the 
introduction of Lady Godiva is believed to have taken 
place about the time of that notorious licentiate Charles II. 


pany provided with followers.* They ride in the 
following order : — the mercers, drapers, clothiers, 
blacksmiths, tailors, cappers, butchers, fell-mon- 
gers, carpenters, cordwainers, bakers, and weavers. 
They are followed by a knight in silver armour, 
and by masonic and benefit societies. These are 
followed by the woolcombers' company, a strange- 
lookino: set of men, most of them wearing large 
wigs and hats of different coloured jersey. First 
comes their streamer ; then their master and two 
followers ; after them appear a little boy and girl, 
representing a shepherd and shepherdess ; they are 
seated beneath two arbours, formed of boughs and 
flowers, which make an entii'e covering for the 
splendid car in which they ride ; the boy carries a 
dog, the little girl a lamb, or images of these 
animals, and they hold crooks in their hands. 
Immediately following them is a man representing 
Jason, with a golden fleece, and drawn sword ; 
after him five men, sorters of wool, and then one 
dressed to personate Bishop Blaze, the great 

* These followers who attend on the principal characters 
of the show, are beautiful little boys, dressed in costly habits, 
and some of them are so young as to require support in 
their basket-work seats, which are fixed to the backs of their 
horses. The men who lead the horses walk without their 
coats, and are decorated with a profusion of ribbons. 


patron and friend of the woolcombers,* with the 
combs in one hand, and the bible in the other, 
followed by several woolcombers, fantastically 
dressed. Another full band of music closes the 

The Preston guilda mercatoria, or merchant's 
guild, was confirmed by charters given in the 37 
Edward III, and 15 Richard II : it was instituted 
in the reign of Plenry II ; and was generally a gay 
and festive meeting ; oratorios, balls, masquerades 
and plays, continued for many weeks. St. John 
the Baptist is the special patron of the Preston 
guild. The first year on record of its public cele- 
bration was 1.329 ; the second, in 1397; the third, 
in 1418 ; and so on at irregular intervals, but from 
the year 1543 it has been held regularly every 
twenty years. Upon failure of such celebration 
the gviild forfeit their elective franchises, and 
their rights as burgesses. 

They meet on the Monday after the decollation 

* He appears to have been tormented with iron combs 
previous to his martyrdom under Licinius, a.d. 316. In the 
first volume of Hone's " Everyday Book" is an account of 
the septennial festival of the bishop, held by the wool- 
combers of Bradford on the day of his martyrdom, February 
3rd, 1825, in which the bishop formed the principal fea- 
ture of the show ; he was attended by his chaplain, and 
was preceded by Jason, Medea, and the King and Queen, 
(of Colchis ?) and followed by shepherds, shepherdesses, and 
country swains, attired in light-green dresses. 

of St. John the Baptist at the Moot Hall, and 
thence go to church. A series of plates was en- 
graved by B. Mayor iu 1762, delineating the whole 
of the procession on that occasion. The com- 
panies were preceded by the marshal armed cap-a- 
pie, and mounted. The smiths exhibited a mounted 
horseman with head-piece and axe ; the carpenters, 
a group of boys, bearing wands surmounted with 
bunches of flowers, like that borne by the lord 
mayor of London's henchboy, in Charles I's time, 
as shewn in the frontispiece to the first part of my 
"Lord Mayors' Pageants;" the cordwainers had 
two nondescript figures, partially armed with hats 
and feathers and long mantles, probably meant for 
Crispin and Crispianus. The weavers carried 
aloft a small loom, with a boy at work ; the wool- 
combers exhibited their patron saint. Bishop Blaise, 
on horseback, holding the woolcomb in his hand. 
The celebration of this guild lasted about fourteen 

In 1802, the tailor's company was attended by 
a man and woman decorated with fig-leaves, to 
personate Adam and Eve, " an emblem of the very 
high antiquity of their business." The farrier's 
company were led by a man completely attired in 
steel armour, to represent Vulcan, attended by 
eight boys in powdered hair. The companies were 
all gaily dressed, the cordwainers appearing in red 


morocco aprons, bound with light blue ribands. 
A spinning-jenny, with a boy at work, and a loom 
at which was a girl at work with bobbins, were 
each drawn on sledges by the men in the proces- 
sion, as well as a miniature steam-engine, perform- 
ing all the various processes of the cotton manu- 
facture. The celebration lasted for a fortnight, 
and balls, races, oratorios, balloons, &c., were pro- 
vided for each day's entertainment.* 

The pageant annually celebrated at Shrews- 
bury, and known by the name of the Shreicsbmy 
Shotv, is of very ancient foundation, and appears 
to have owed its origin to one of the most splendid 
festivals of the Romish church, that of Corpus 
Christi. Upon this day the several guilds and 

* See " History of Preston, and Account of the Guild 
Merchant," fol. Lond. 1822. Lady Mary Wortley Montague, 
in a letter from Adrianople, dated May 17, 1717, describes a 
Turkish trade show, which iu many particulars bears a curious 
resemblance to the Euroi^ean ones : — 

" It was preceded by an effendi mounted on a camel, richly 
furnished, reading aloud the Alcoran, finely bound, laid upon 
a cushion. He was suiTOunded by a parcel of boys, in white, 
singing some verses of it, followed by a man dressed in green 
boughs, representing a clean husbandman sowing seed. 
After him several reapers, with garlands of ears of corn, as 
Ceres is pictured, with scythes in their hands, seeming to mow. 
Then a little machine drawn by oxen, in which was a wind- 
mill, and boys employed in grinding corn ; followed by another 
machine, drawn by buffaloes, carrying an oven, and two more 
boys, one employed in kneading bread, and another in draw- 



companies, preceded by their masters and wardens, 
and attended by the abbot, priors, and other eccle- 
siastical dignitaries, bearing the host under a superb 
canopy, and richly dressed and appointed with 
various religious insignia, proceeded in solemn pro- 
cession to the Weeping Cross, some little distance 
out of town, where they bewailed their manifold 
sins; and having offered up thanksgivings and 
prayers for the harvest, they returned in the same 
order to tlie town, and concluded their ceremony 
by the celebration of High Mass in the ancient 
church of St. Chad. This was followed by three 
days of general rejoicing. Since the Reformation, 
the religious part of the ceremony has been of 
course discontinued, and the second ]Mondav after 

ing it out of the oven. These boys threw little cakes on both 
sides among the crowd, and were followed by the whole com- 
pany of bakers, marching on foot, two by two, in their best 
clothes, with cakes, loaves, pasties, and pies of all sorts, on 
their heads, and after them two buffoons, or jack-puddings, 
with their faces and clothes smeared with meal, who diverted 
the mob with their antic gestures. In the same manner fol- 
lowed all the companies of trade in the empire ; the noble 
sort, such as jewellers, mercers, (tc, finely mounted, and 
many of the pageants that represent their trades, per- 
fectly magnificent ; among which, that of the furriers made 
one of the best figures, being a very large machine, set round 
with the skins of ermines, foxes, itc, so well stuffed, that 
the animals seemed to be alive, and followed hy music and 
dancers. I believe there were upon the whole twenty thou- 
sand men."' 

Trinity Sunday has been substituted for Corpus 
Christi day. The different companies still con- 
tinued their procession with increased pomp and 
grandeur. At the present time, the various com- 
panies, with all their " corn-brethren," assemble in 
the forenoon at the castle, and having been duly 
marshalled in proper order of precedency, start in 
procession in the following order : first, the shoe- 
makers, with a splendid array of flags and banners, 
and preceded by St. Crispin in the dress of a 
cavalier of Charles I, and Ci'ispianus in the costume 
of George II, both on horseback ; second, the 
butchers, with the king of the company, and nu- 
merous flags and banners ; these are followed by 
the bricklayers, the painters, the booksellers, the 
bakers, the barber-surgeons, and many other com- 
panies, with flags, banners, devices, and imple- 
ments, and each accompanied by a " king," or some 
principal personage of their trade on horseback. 
The procession moves down Castle-Foregate and 
Pride Hill to the market-place, where they rest 
until the national anthem is played, and then march 
forward down the Mardol, over the Welch bridge, 
and up Frank well to Kingsland. 

This is a large tract of land belonging to the 
burgesses, and upon which the several companies 
have small enclosures each comprising within its 
limits a small dwelling-house, and an "arbour," 

or summer dining pavilion. On arriving at Kings- 
land, the companies branch off to their respective 
arbours, where dinners are prepared, and shortly 
after the mayor and corporation arrive on horse- 
back, and proceed from arbour to arbour, to partake 
of refreshment with each. In the evening, the 
procession re-forms, and leaving Kingsland on the 
opposite side, returns to Coleham, over the English 
bridge, up the Wyll Cop, along High Street to the 
Market Square, where, having again sung the 
national anthem, they separate. 

The day is spent in unbounded jollity and good 
humour, and flags, banners, bands of music, shows, 
booths, stalls, &c., are to be seen everywhere. 

Of the provincial mayoralty processions, one of 
the most interesting was that of Norwich, Avhich 
exhibited some peculiar features of "pomp and 
antique pageantry,'" even until the year 183o, 
when the old corporation was legislatively abo- 
lished, and the mayor has since been sworn in with 
scarcely so much of public form and distinction as 
accompanies the installation of a })arochial overseer. 
In the olden time all the trade guilds or confrater- 
nities, preceded by their banners, marched through 
the principal streets to the cathedral. By the sta- 
tutes of 31 Henry VIII and 1 Edw. VI, all the 
guilds, except that of St. George's company, were 
abolished; and they always appeared with their 

pageant of St. George and the Dragon and St. Mar- 
garet, until that once opulent and important bro- 
therhood was dissolved in 1731.* Their annual 
processions were generally very grand, and they 
always exhibited their patron saint in great glory. 
Bloomfield has furnished us, in his Norfolk, with 
many items on this subject, shewing their great 
liberality. Thus, in 1534, Philip Foreman is or- 
dered " to be George this year, and to have 10/. 
for his labour, and finding apparel," a very largo 
sum when the value of money at that time is con- 
sidered. In 1537, was "bought for the apparel of 
the George and Margaret, eight yards of tawny, 
and four yards of crimson velvet, to be in the cus- 
tody of the aldermen," so that St. Margaret, who 

* This company was first founded in 1385, being a society 
of brethren and sisters in honour of the martyr St. George, 
who, by voluntary subscription, provided a chaplain to cele- 
brate service every day before the high altar on the south 
side of the cathedral, for the welfare of the brethren and 
sisters of the guild while alive, and the repose of their souls 
when dead, and thus they continued until 1415, when 
Henry V granted them a charter, by which they were in- 
corporated by the name of "the aldermen, masters, brethren, 
and sisters of the fraternity or guild of St. George in Norwich," 
and they annually chose one alderman, four masters, and 
twenty-four for the assembly or common council. The com- 
pany having dwindled to poverty, gave up their charter, 
books, and goods to the city in 1731, in consideration of 
their debts, which amounted to 236^. 15s. Id., being paid by 
them. — {Bloomfield.) 


is always painted with the Dragon* as well as St. 
George, also appeared in the procession, and was 
called the Lady of the Guild. In 1468, in the in- 
ventory of the goods belonging to the guild, is " a 
scarlet gown for the George, with blue garters. t 
A coat armour for the George, beaten with silver. 
A chaplet for St. George, with an ov,'che (or brooch) 
of copper gilt, and all the horse's furniture. A 
dragon, a basnet, a pair of gauntlets, two Avhite 
gowns for the heynsmen or henchmen, and a sword, 
the scabbard covered with velvet, and bossed." 

In 1549, they sold their old pageant-dresses, 
and among them " a black velvet vestment, a jer- 
kin of crimson velvet, a cap of russet velvet, a 
coat armour of white damask, with a red cross, a 
horse harness of black velvet, witli copper buckles, 
gilt, for the George, and a horse harness of crimson 

* The legend of this saint assures us that she was swal- 
lowed alive by the evil one under the form of a dragon, and 
that while in his stomach she made the sign of the cross, 
and "yssued out all whole and sound." There is a painting 
by Raffaelle of this event, in which the saint is represented 
with her foot on the head of a gigantic dragon, and holding 
a palm branch. 

t In the reign of Edward IV the colour of the gown or 
surcoat of the knights of the garter was changed from blue 
to puri)le, and it was embroidered all over with blue garters. 
The hood was similarly decorated. 


velvet with flowers of gold, for the lady." In 
1556, "a gown of crimson velvet, pirled with 
gold," was bought for the George. In 1558, it 
was ordered " that ther shall be ney ther George 
nor Margett, but for pastime the dragon to come 
in and shew himself, as in other yeres." 

When the company dissolved itself in 1731, 
the inventory of their goods contains the follow- 
ing items connected with their pageants, and the 
value set on them. — 

£. s. il. 
" One large silver-headed staff, with the 
effigies of St. George, on horseback, 
trampling the dragon under his feet - 5 5 
One new dragon, commonly called snap- 
dragon - - - - -33 
Two standards, one of St. George and the 

Dragon,and the other the English colours 110 
Four sashes for the standard-bearers - 10 6 

Two habits for the standai'd-bearers - 2 2 

Five habits for the wiflers - - 2 12 6 

Two habits, one for the club-bearer, another 

for his man, who are now called fools - 10 6 

The club-bearers and whifflers were always seen 
in the London pageants, their duty being to clear the 
way ; and the Norwich corporation retained their 
whifflers to the last. The frontispiece to the first 
part of my "Lord Mayors' Pageants" represents 
the London civic whiffler of the time of Charles I, 
and here we have the last of his race, as he ap- 

peared at Norwich, previous to the operation of 
the Reform Bill in 1832. His costume is curious, 


and had been handed down from the age of theTu- 
dors; it consisted of white stockings, gartered below 
the knee, with crimson ribbons, capacious trunk 
breeches of blue plush, a doublet of white cotton, 
with full sleeves, trimmed with light-blue ribbon, 
and ornamented with gilt buttons ; a hat made of 
crimson cloth, and edged with white ribbon, hav- 
ing a large blue bow and white feather ; his shoes 
were decorated with large white rosettes. There 
were four whifflers employed, and each held a 
sword, broad, and short in tlie blade, but having a 
long handle grasi)ed by both hands ; it was blunt 


at the point, and without edge ; and with this harm- 
less, but dexterously flourished weapon, which they 
frequently threw up into the air and caught in its 
descent with unerring precision, (like the Norman 
Taillefer at the battle of Hastings), they contrived, 
by a sort of half leaping, half piroueitinci move- 
ment, without hurting any one, to make all by- 
standers cautious how they came within reach of 
their varied evolutions, and thus effectually did 
the business of pioneering for the cavalcade ; they 
beinsc, like the heralds of ancient Rome, held 
sacred from personal insult or violence, which not 
even the lowest of the populace ever attempted.* 
Next these men, and at the head of the proces- 
sion, appeared the dragon, familiarly known as 
snap. The universal popularity of the dragon in 
public shows, and on great festivities, has been 
frequently noted, both here, and on the Continent ; 
I am glad to be enabled, thi-ough the kindness of 
S. W. Stevenson, Esq. of Norwich, to give "the 
true pourtraicture and effigies" of the last of the 
Dragons, as he figured in that town ; the more so, 

* The office had been held in the family of the last of 
the whifflers, William Dewing, for more than two centuries ; 
and mention is made in Kemp's " Nine Days' Wonder" of 
their being employed when he danced into Norwich in 1599. 
A coloured print of this whiffler was published in 1841, by R. 
Muskett, of Norwich, from which our cut is copied. 


as I had been informed, on a visit to Norwich 
three years ago, that he had fallen into total decay. 

The body of this monster was formed of light 
materials, being composed of canvas stretched 
over a framework of wood : the outside was painted 
of a sea-green colour, witli gilt scales, picked out 
with red. The body was five feet in length, and 
was sometimes used to secrete wine abstracted 
from the mayor's cellars. The neck was capable 
of elongation, (measuring three feet and a half 
when extended), was supported by springs attached 
to the body, and was caj)able of being turned in 
any direction at the will of the bearer. From 
between the ears the whole outer extremity of 
the back was surmounted by a sort of mane, of 
crimson colour, tied in fantastic knots around the 
juncture of the enormous tail, which extended 
about five feet, curling at the further extremity, 
as exhibited in the cut (a). Between the wings 
was a small aperture for air, and beneath the body 
was hung a sort of petticoat to conceal the legs of 


the bearer, whose feet were furnished with large 

The dragon's head had its lower jaw furnished 
with a plate of iron resembling a horse-shoe ; it 
was formerly garnished with enormous nails, which 
produced a terrible clatter when the jaws met 
together. They were made to open and shut by 
means of strings, and the children amused them- 
selves by throwing halfpence into the gaping 
mouth, which turned to the right and left during 
the whole of the journey, noisily clashing its jaws, 
from which the Dragon's popular name of snap 
was probably derived. 

The procession did not possess any other peculiar 
feature of antique show. 

Walker, in a short historical essay on the Irish 
stage, published in the Transactions of the Royal 
Irish Academy, vol. ii. 1788, gives the following 

extract from the MS. of Robert "Ware, which 
shows that the Irish companies or guilds, had 
each their pecuUar mysteries and moralities, like 
those of Chester and Coventry. — " Thomas Fitz- 
Gerald, Earl of Kildare, and Lord-Lieutenant of 
Ireland in the year 1528, was invited to a new 
play every day in Christmas, Arland Usher being 
then mayor, and Francis Herbert and John Squire 
bayliffs, wherein the taylors acted the part of 
Adam and Eve ; the shoemakers represented the 
story of Crispin and Crispianus ; the vintners 
acted Bacchus and his story ; the carpenters that of 
Joseph and Mary ; Yulcan, and what related to 
him, was acted by the smiths ; and the comedy of 
Ceres, the goddess of corn, was acted by the 
bakers. Their stage was erected on Hoggin-green, 
(now called College-green), and on it the priors of 
St. John of Jerusalem, of the Blessed Trinity, 
and of All-hallows, caused two plays to be acted, 
the one representing the Passion of our Saviour, 
and the other the several deaths which the apos- 
tles suffered." In 1557, the '• Six Worthies was 
played by the city f and the Chain-nook of Dub- 
lin, also quoted, furnishes the following notices of 
dresses, &c., supplied by the city for these shows, 
and in Avhich St. George and the dragon figure 
most conspicuously. — 

" It was ordered in maintenance of the pageant 

of St. George, that the mayor of the foregoing 
year should find the emperor and empress, Avith 
their train and followers, well apparelled and 
accoutered ; that is to say, the emperor attended 
with two doctors, and the empress with two 
knights, and two maidens richly apparelled to bear 
up the train of her gown. Item, 2ndly, the 
mayor for the time being was to find St. George 
a horse, and the wardens to pay 3^. 4d. for his 
wages that day : the bailiffs for the time being 
were to find four horses, with men mounted on 
them, well apparelled, to bear the pole-axe, the 
standai'd, and the several swords of the emperor 
and St. George. Item, 3rdly, the elder master of 
the guild was to find a maiden well attired to lead 
the dragon, and the clerk of the market was to 
find a golden line for the dragon. Item, 4thly, 
the elder warden was to find St. George four 
trumpets, but St. George himself was to pay their 
wages. Item, 5thly, the younger Avarden was 
obliged to find the King of Dele, and the Queen 
of Dele, as also two knights to lead the Queen of 
Dele, and two maidens to bear the train of her 
gown, all being entirely clad in black apparel. 
Moreover, he was to cause St. George's Chapel to 
be well hung in black, and completely apparelled 
to every purpose, and was to provide it with 
cushions, rushes, and other necessaries for the fes- 
tivity of the day." 

The record proceeds : — " No less was the pre- 
l)aration of pageants for the procession of Corpus 
Christi-day, on which the glovers were to repre- 
sent Adam and Eve, with an angel bearing a sword 
before them. The corrisees, (perhaps curriers), 
were to represent Cain and Abel, with an altar and 
their offering. Tiie Mariners and Vintners, Noah, 
and the jiersons in his ark, apparelled in the habits 
of carpenters and salmon-takers. The weavers 
personated Abraham and Isaac, wath their offering 
and altar. The smiths represented Pharaoh, with 
his host. The skinners the camel with the chil- 
dren of Israel. The goldsmiths were to find the 
King of Cullen. The hoopers were to find the 
shepherds, with an angel singing Gloria in excelsis 
Deo. Corj)us Christi guild was to find Christ in 
his passion, with the Marys and angels. The 
taylors were to find Pilate, with his fellowshij), 
and his wife cloathed accordingly. The barbers, 
Anna and Caiaphas. The fishers, the apostles. 
The merchants, the prophets ; and the butchers 
the tormentors." All these pageants moved in 
solemn procession to St. George's Chapel, the 
scene of their dramatic exhibitions, which stood 
formerly in St. George's Street, South,* not a 

* It is mentioned in Ilolinshccrs Chronicle as "of late 

trace of It now remains, but the memory of these 
pageants continued to be preserved in The Fran- 
chises that were rode triennially In Dublin till the 
year 1772, when they were abolished by the lord 
mayor's proclamation." 

This perambulation " of the liberties and fran- 
chises of the city of Dublin" took place in August, 
each trade or guild being dedicated to some saint, 
and marching In the following order: — 1, mer- 
chants, or Holy Trinity guild ; 2, taylors, or guild 
of St. John the Baptist ; 3, smiths, or guild of 
St. Loy ; 4, barbers, or guild of St, Mary Mag- 
dalen ; 5, bakers, or guild of St. Anne ; 6, butch- 
ers, or guild of the Virgin Mary ; 7, carpenters, 
millers, masons, healers, turners, and plumbers of 
the fraternity of the Blessed Virgin, and house of 
St. Thomas ; 8, shoemakers, or guild of St. 
Michael Archangel ; 9, sadlers, upholders, coach 
and harness makers, or guild of the Blessed Vir- 
gin ; 10, cooks, or guild of St. James Apostle; 
11, tanners; 12, tallow-chandlers, or guild of St. 
George ; 13, glovers and skinners, or guild of St. 
Mary ; 14, weavers, or guild of St. Philij) and 
James ; 1 5, sheer-men and dyers, or guild of St. 
Nicholas; 16, goldsmiths, or guild of All-Saints; 
17, coopers, or guild of St. Patrick ; 18, hatters ; 
19, printers, painters, cutlers, stalners, and sta- 
tioners, or guild of St. Luke, the Evangelist ; 20, 


bricklayers and plasterers, or guild of St. Bartho- 
lomew ; 21, hosiers, or guild of St. George; 22, 
curriers ; 23, brewers and maltsters, or guild of St. 
Andrew ; 24, joiners, ceilers, and wainscotters ; 
25, apothecaries, or guild of St. Luke. All these 
bodies were distinguished by their peculiar colours, 
and a broadside was published regularly, descrip- 
tive of their proceedings, in which the following 
"poem"'*' always appears, and which is remarkable 
for its grandiloquent opening, and satirical close. 
It is printed from a copy dated 1762, in the col- 
lection of T. Crofton Croker, Esq. 

Tnou mighty Sol, now in the east ascend, 
Thy beams display and all thy glories lend; 
Now mount thy chariot, drive each cloud away, 
And bright Aurora usher in this day. 

Next Neptune, god and ruler of the main, 
Let not the clouds exhale one drop of rain; 
Then will each hero at the night's approach 
Come home with dry cockades without a coach. 

And now the glorious cavalcade's begun. 
Ye muses open all your Hellicon, 
Inspire my verses, and assist my song. 
While I relate how each troop moves along. 

The city Proctor, mounted on a steed, 
With ril)bons drest, leads on the cavalcade: 
Before his Lordship, with a solemn grace, 
They bear the sword of justice and the mace; 
His gown of richest scarlet, in his hand 
Majestical he holds the powerful wand. 
In awful pomp and state, on either side, 
The city Sheriffs in like triumph ride, 
Attended by a band whose gripping paw, 
Poor debtors dread and keeps them still in awe. 


Next march the Guild who plow the frothy main, 
In depth of winter, for the hopes of gain, 
To distant climes our beef and wool convey, 
And barter wholesome food for silk and tea; 
Fearless of rocks they seek the unknown shore. 
And bring from thence the glitt'ring tempting ore. 

The cross-legg'd Taylors next in order go, 
Who by their arts trim others for this show. 
All other arts acknowledge and confess, 
They're gi'ac'd by them in every gaudy dress; 
As well the peasant as the cringing beau. 
Must from the tailor to fair Silvia go; 
No wonder then those tailors march so gay, 
Since from all others thus they bear the sway. 

Next march the Smiths, men bravely us'd to fire, 
Without whose aid all arts must soon expire; 
Before them, clad in armour in his pride, 
A brawny Vulcan doth in triumph ride. 

Next comes the Barbers, who can soon repair 
Nature's defects, and 'fend the bald with haii". 
Suit all complexions, and with little pains. 
Supply the skull with wig that lacketh brains. 

Next comes the well-bred men who know the way 
To please the ladies in theii- bread at tea. 
And with theii* white, their wheaten and their brown, 
Can please the palate of the lord or clown. 

Next march the Butchers, men inur'd to toil, 
Their brawny limbs like champions shine with oil; 
Mui'der and slaughter, knocking in the head. 
Are their delight, the trade to which they're bred. 

Next march the Carpenters, whose arms can rend 
The lofty pines and make proud elms to bend. 

Next do the Shoe-makers in order go. 
And their dragoons do make a stately show. 
Since the wide hoop exposes to the view 
The well shap'd leg, silk stocking, red heel'd shoe. 

Next march the Sadlers, glorious to behold, 
Ou spritely beasts, their saddles shine with gold; 


A warlike steed most proudly walks before, 
Richly attir'd, led by a black-a-moor. 

Next march the Cooks, who study day and night 
With costly fare to please the appetite; 
With these the Vintners ride; did they refine 
As much as they adulterate the wine, 
Then every muse [their praise] woidd gladly sound, 
And with what pleasm-e every glass go round! 

Next march the Tanners, fam'd in days of yore 
For tanning hides for shields which heroes bore. 
Who has not heard of Ajax's seven-fold shield, 
Which neither to the sword nor spear would yield 1 
And won't you as much admire, as much adore. 
The tanner's hand, as his the buckler bore. 

Next march the Tallow-chandlers, who expel 
With cheerful lights, shades from the darkest cell; 
Enthusiasts of inward light may boast, 
But these are they, illuminate the most. 

Next march the Glovers, who with nicest care, 
Provide white kid for the new married pair; 
Or nicely stitch the lemon-colour'd glove. 
For hand of beau to go and see his love. 

The Weavers next in order proudly ride, 
Who with great skill the nijnble shuttle glide, 
Pity such art should meet with small reward. 
But what art, now-a-days, docs meet regard ? 

Shearmen and Dyers next in order come, 
Men who depend entirely on the loom. 
The Weaver finds employment for them both. 
One gives the colour, 'tother refines the cloth. 

Next march the Goldsmiths, who can form and mould 
In sundry shapes and forms the ductile gold. 
Men call them traytors, I'cbels, and what not. 
Nor King nor Queen they spare, all goes to pot. 
Nor pity meets; in the devouring fire, 
Monarchs and chamber pots and rings expire. 

Then comes the jolly Coopers, who confine 
In casks well bound with hoops the sparkling wine. 

Next march the Hatters, once a gainful trade, 
When men wore finest beavers on their head; 
But now lest weight of that the curl should harm 
Beaux strut along with beaver under arm. 

Next Printers, Stationers, Cutlers, Painters appear, 
Three men in shields their arms before them bear. 
And printing-press to shew that art so rare. 

Next march the Bricklayers, by whose hands arise 
Hibernia's towers, whose top salutes the skies. 

The Stocking-weavers next in order come, 
Who form the scarlet stocking in the loom. 
With clock of gold or silver nicely wrought; 
Each step fair Chloe takes, a lover's caught. 

Next march the Curriers, who both cut and pare 
The hydes for Saddlers or Shoe-maker. 

The Brewers next well mounted doth appear, 
These are the men brew humming ale and beer. 

The skilful Joiners next in order come, 
Whose chairs and tables fm-nish out the room; 
A man in white precedes the gallant train, 
Whose ample shoulders a huge pole sustain. 

See! where the proud Apothecaries drive, 
Who most by fraud and impositions thrive, 
Whose monstrous bUls immoderate wealth procure. 
For di'ugs that kill as many as they cure. 
Well are they plac'd the last of all the rout, 
For they're the men we best could live without. 

In order thus they ride the city round. 
View all the limits, and observe each bound. 
Then homeward steer their com-se without delay. 
And fall to drink, the business of the day. 
Next morning send theii- horse and 'coutrements away. 

The ensuing collection of songs contains speci- 
mens by most of the city poets laureate ; the 
entire list comprises the names of George Peele, 


Anthony Munday, Thomas Dekker, Thomas 
Middleton, John Squire, John Webster, Thomas 
Heywood, John Taylor, Edmund Gaytou, Tho- 
mas Brewer, (?) John Tatham, Thomas Jordan, 
Matthew Taubman, and Elkanah Settle. No songs 
appear In the pageants of many of these writers, 
and solitary specimens are all that can be found 
by others. Thomas Jordan was the most prolific 
in this way, and some of his songs are extremely 
good. A specimen by Settle, the last of his tribe, 
concludes the Collection ; and it is curious that 
one of our latest notices of him records the fact 
of his enacting a drag-on in Bartholomew fair ; — a 
nondescript creature that so universally figured 
in the pageants, both English and foreign. 


The White Falcon . 

Song in Praise of Anne Boleyn 

Song to King Edward VI 

"A Ballet of the Kings Majesty," (Edward VI) 

The Song of Troynovant 

Song in Praise of Sir T. Middleton 

The Song of Kobin Hood and his Huntsmen 

The Song of Peace . 

Song of the Muses . 

Song in Praise of Country Innocence . 

A Dialogue between Tom and Dick. 

A short Representation performed before the Lord General 

Monk at Goldsmith's Hall 
Song of Welcome to Charles II 
Song of the Watermen 
A Review of the Times 
The Discontented Cavalier 
The Prodigal's Resolution 
Song in Honour of the City and Goldsmiths 
The Epicure 
The Coffee House . 















Song on New Bedlam 

. 63 

The Mad Sectary . 

. 67 

Song in Praise of the Merchant Taylors 

. 74 

The Protestants' Exhortation 

. 77 

The Plotting Papists' Litany . 

. 82 

The Planters' Song 

. 90 

Song of the Clothworkers 

. 93 

The Vintners' Song 

. 95 



From " Verses and Dities made at the coronation of Queene 
Anne Boleyn," Royal MS. 18, A. LXiv, which were "devised 
and made partely by John Leland, and partely by Nicholas 
Uvedale," or Udall, (latinized Udallus throughout this MS.) 
who has achieved extra celebrity as the author of the first 
English comedy, " Ealph Roister Doister," which was probably 
written about the same time as these pageant verses, as Mr. 
Collier imagines it to be " the pi-oduction of comparative j-outh." 
Udall was born as early as 1506, admitted scholar of Corpus 
Christi College, Oxford, the 18th of June 1520, and died 
"after 1564," according to Mr. Collier, (Hist, of Stage, vol. 2, 
p. 445), having first been master of Eton, and afterwards of 
Westminster schools. His severity to his scholars has been 
noted by Roger Ascham, who says, in the preface to his " Schole- 
master," that divers of the scholars of Eton ran away from 
thence for fear of him. Thomas Tusser, the author of the 
"Five Hundred Pointes of good Husbandrie," was one of his 
pupils, and thus alludes to the usage he received at his hands: — 

" From Paules 1 went, to Eaton sent, 
To learne streiglitwaies, the Latin pbraies, 
Where fil'tiethree stripes given to mee, 

at once I had: 
For fault but small, or none at all, 
It came to pas, thus beat I was. 
See, Udall, see, the mercie of thee 

to me poore lad." — (Edit. 1580). 


The song here printed was sung at the end of the pageant 
representing Saint Anne, (the queen's patron saint), and Mary 
Cleophas with her four children. One of these made a goodly 
oration to the Queen of the fruitfulnesse of Saint Anne, and her 
generation, trusting that the like fruit should come of her. 
(Hall's Chronicle). " This spoken, opened a cloud, and leatt 
down a white falcon, in the descending of whiche was pronounced 
by another child as followeth: — 

" Behold and see the Falcon white, 
How she begynneth hir wings to spred, 
And for our coinniforte to take hir flight, 
But where woU she sease as j-ou doo red ? 
A rare sight, and yett to bee joyed, 
On the rose, chiefe floure that ever was. 
This bird to light, that all birds dothe passe." 

The white falcon was the badge of Anne Boleyn, (See Wil- 
lement's " Rogal Heraldry,") where it is engraved. The rose 
upon which the falcon lights being Henry the Eighth, who 
bore the flattering legend on his coins of "Rosa sine spina," 
and a ballad on his expedition to France in 1513 has the words — 

" The rose will into Frawnse spring, 
Alniythy God hyin thyder brj'iig. 
And save this flowr which is our kyng, 
Thys rose, thys rose, this Ryall Rose." 

The speech being delivered, " at the departing of the Queene's 
said Grace was songen this balad following: — 

This white Falcon 

Rare and gaison, 
This bird shjneth so bright, 

Of all that ar 

No bird compare 
Maye with this Falcon whiglit. 

The vertues all 
No man mortall 
Of this bird may write; 


Noo man earthelj 
Ynough truely 
Can prease this Falcon wliiglit. 

Who woll expresse 

Gret gentilnes 
Too be in any wight, 

He woll not mys 

But call hym this, 
The gentil Falcon whight; 

This gentill burcl, 

As white as curd, 
Shyneth bothe claye and night; 

Nor farre ne nere 

Is any pere 
Unto this Falcon white. 

Of bodie small, 

Of power regall. 
She is, and sharpe of sight; 

Of courage haulte, 

Noo manner faulte 
Is in this Falcon whight. 

In chastitee 

Excedeth shee, 
Moste like a virgin bright. 

And worthie is 

To live in blisse 
Alwayes this falcon whight. 

B 2 


But now to take 

And use Lir make, 
Is tjme, as trauthe is plight, 

That she may bring 

Frute according 
For such a Falcon whight. 

And where by wrong 

She hathe fleen long, 
Uncertain where to light, 

Hir self repose 

Upon the rose, 
Now maye this Falcon whight. 

Wheron to rest, 

And build hir nest, 
God graunte hir moste of might; 

That England maye 

Rejoyce alwaye 
In this same Falcon whight.* 


This Skeltonical " balad," also by Udall, and sung upon the same 
occasion as th« last, came in at the end of the pageant called 
" The Judgment of Paris," and which is thus described in the MS. 

* The entire of these verses have been reprinted in the tirst 
volume of Nichols's "Progresses of Queen Elizabeth," (first 
edition, 1788), but the stanzas are there printed in four lines 
only, the four shorter lines being printed as two. It is here given 
as it stands in thi- original MS. 


"At the litle counduite in Chepe sid was exhibited the Juge- 
mente of Paris, in maner and fourme folowing: — 

' Mercurie. Juppiter, this aple unto the hath sent, 

Commaunding in this cause to geve true jugement. 

Paris. Juppiter a straunge office hath geven me, 

To juge whiche is fairest of these hidies three. 

Juno. All riches and kingdonies hee at my behest; 

Give me the aple, and thou shalt have the hest. 

Pallas. Adjuge it to me, and for a kingdoms 

I siiall geve the incomparable wisedome. 

Venus. Preferre me, and I shall rewarde the, Paris, 
With the fairest ladie that on the erthe is. 

Paris. I should breke Juppiter's high coniniaundemcnt, 
If I should for niede or rewarde geve jugement. 
Therfore, ladie Venus, before both these twain, 
Your beautie moche exceding, by my sentence 
Shall win and have this aple. Yet to bee plain. 
Here is the fouerthe ladie, now in presence, 
Moste worthie to have it of due congruence. 
As pereles in riches, wit, and beautee, 
Whiche ar but sundrie qualitees in you three. 
But for hir worthynes this aple of gold 
Is to symple a rewarde a thousand fold.' 

Hall tells us, in the account of this day's proceedings, that 
Mercury presented to the Queen a ball of gold, divided ; signify- 
ing the three gifts which the goddesses gave her — wisdom, 
riches, and felicity ; but fi'om the last verse of this ballad, Venus 
appears to have received the ball, and the Queen was consoled by 
a very high-flown compliment. 

QuENE Anne so gent, 
Of high descent, 
Anne excellent 

In noblenes, 
Of ladies all 
You principall, 
Should win tliis ball 

Of worthynes. 


Passing beautie 
And cliastitee, 
With high degree, 

And gret riches ; 
Soo coopled bee 
In unytee, 
That chief ar yee 

In worthynes. 

When Juppiter 
His raessager 
Sent doun hither, 

He knewe certes, 
That you victrice 
Of all ladies, 
Should have the price 

Of worthynes. 

And wise Paris, 
Made juge in this, 
Anon I wys, 

Moste high Princessc, 
Well undirstood 
Your vertues good. 
Your noble blood, 

And woorthynes. 

Your dignitee 
When he gan see, 
The ladies three, 

Qiicenc Anne percles, 


He bead geve place 
Unto your Grace, 
As mete it was 

In worthynes. 

The golden ball, 
Of price but small, 
Have Venus shall, 

The fair goddesse; 
Because it was 
To lowe and bace 
For your good grace 

And worthynes. 


This song was sung at the Conduit in Cornhill, when King 
Edward VI passed through London from the Tower to West- 
minster, Saturday, February 19th, 1546-7, preparatory to his 
coronation the day after. It lias been preserved by Leland in his 
" Collectanea," vol. 4, where it was printed " from a MS. for- 
merly belonging to William Le Neve, (Norroy.)" It has been 
reprinted in Nichols's 'London Pageants,' 8vo., London, 1831, 
p. 45, who considers it " worthy of particular attention, at it 
embraces most of the sentiments of the modern ' God save the 
King,' although not noticed by the several writers who have 
investigated the history of that national anthem." He adds, 
"As the arrangement of the lines in the ' Collectanea' is ver}'- 
obscure, some slight transposition has been attempted; but by no 
means with confidence that the song is thus restored to its 
original form." I have adopted Mr. Nichols's reading, as it is 
impossible to make sense of the song as it stands in the pages of 


King Edward, King Ednard, 
God save King Edward, 
God save King Edward, 

King Edward the Sixth ! 
To have the sword, 
His subjects to defend, 

His enemies to put down. 
According to right, in every towne; 

And long to continue 

In grace and vertue, 

Unto God's pleasure 

His Commons to rejoice ! 
"Whom we ought to honour, to love, and to dread 

As our most noble King 

And Soveraigne Lord, [Supreame Head ; 

Next under God, of England and Ireland the 

Whom God hath chosen 

By his mercy so good. 
Good Lord! in Heaven to Thee we sing. 
Grant our noble King to reigne and springe. 

From age to age 

Like Solomon the sage, 
Whom God preserve in peace and warre, 
And safely keep him from all danger. 


This was sung upon the same occasion as the forcgoin<^, at the 
Little Conduit in Ciieapsido, where a pageant was prepared to 
amuse the young king, in which King Edward the Confessor and 


St. Geoi'gc were the principal characters ; the latter was to have 
made a speech, and a child " an oration in Latin, " but " for lack 
of time it could not be done, his Grace made such speed ; how- 
beit there was a song," which was the one here reprinted. It has 
been given in Nichols's " London Pageants," who says of it that 
" it has more merit than most of the poetry employed on this 
occasion, and is sufficiently well written to have deserved popu- 
larity, if it did not obtain it." 

King Edward up springeth from puerilitie, 
And towards us bringetli joy and tranquillity; 
Our hearts may be light, and merry oure cheere, 
He shall be of such might that all the world may him feare. 
Sing up, heart i sing up, heart; sing no more down, 
But joy in King Edward that weareth the crown !" 

His father, late our soveraigne, each day and also houre, 
That in joy he might reigne, like aprince in high power, 
By sea and land, hath provided for him eke. 
That never King of England had ever the like. 
Sing up, heart, &c. 

He hath gotten already BuUen that goodly towne, 
And biddeth sing speedily up and downe. 
When he waxeth weight, and to manhood doth spring, 
He shall be without fail of foure realmes the King. 
Sing up, heart, &c. 

Yee, children of England, for the honor of the same, 
Take bow and shaft in hand, learn shewtage to frame,* 

* The decay of archery in England was looked on as a serious 
evil, the pride and strength of our early armies being their bow- 
men. The practice of shooting was consequently enforced by 


That you another day may so do your parts 
As to serve your King as well with hands as with hearts. 
Sing up, heart, &c. 

ordinances from most of our sovereigns, and particularly when 
fire-arms had rendered this early form of defence comparatively 
worthless ; Henry VIII passed three several acts for promoting 
the practise of the long bow, one prohibiting the use of cross- 
bows and hand-guns ; another prohibiting all games in the open 
fields that would tend to prevent archery ; and a third obliging 
all men who were the king's subjects to exercise themselves with 
the long bow, and also to keep a bow and arrows continually in 
their houses. Only men who were sixty j-ears of age were 
exempt, but all younger were compelled to practise, and all 
fathers and guardians were enjoined to teach all male children 
who had ai-rived at seven years of age the use of the bow. 
Masters were ordei-ed to tind bows for apprentices, and to compel 
them to learn to shoot with them upon holidays, and at every 
other convenient time. By virtue of the same act, every man 
who kept a cross-bow in his house was liable to a penalty of ten 
pounds. (Strutt's Sports.) The decay of archery in England is 
lamented by Holinshed, but most by Bishop Latimer, who, in 
his sixth sermon, says, " the arte of shutynge hath been in times 
past much esteemed in this realme ; it is a gyft of God, that he 
hath given us to excell all other nacions wythall. It hath bene 
Goddes instrumente, whereby he hath given us manye victories 
agaynste onre enemies. A wonderous thynge, that so exalaunte 
a gyft of God shoulde be so lyttle esteemed. I desire you, my 
lordes, even as you love honoure, and gloryc of God, and intonde 
to remove his indignacion, let there be sent fourth a proolania- 
cion, some sharpe proclamacion, to the iustices of the peace, for 
they do not thcyr dutic ; charge them upon their allegiance, that 
thys singular benefit of God may be practised." To judge from 
the Journal of Edward VI in the British Museum, this young 
king appears to have been fond of archery. (Meyrick's Critical 
Inquiry into Ancient Arras and Armour.) 


Yee children that are towards, sing up and downe; 
And never play the cowards to him that weareth the 

But alway bee you sure his pleasure to fulfil, 
Then shall you keep right sure, the honour of England 


Sing up, heart, &c. 


This production of Thomas Dekker was sung on the passage of 
King James I through London, to his coronation, March 1603-4, 
by " two boyes, choristers of Paules," at the conclusion of a 
pageant emblematic of the benefits derived from the accession of 
James. It was sung, we are told, " to a loude and excellent 
musicke, composed of violins, and another rare artificiall instru- 
ment, wherein, besides sundrie severall sounds eifused all at one 
time, were also sensibly distinguisht the chirpings of birds." 
For some I'emarks on the name Troynovant, as applied to London, 
see the notes to my " Lord Mayoi's' Pageants," Part IL 

Troynovant is now no more a citie; 
O great pittie ! is't not a pittie ? 

And yet her towers on tiptoe stand. 

Like pageants built on fairie land, 
And her marble armes, 
Like to magicke charmes, 

Binde thousands faste unto her. 

That for her wealth and beauty daily wooe her, 
Yet for all this, is't not a pittie ? 
Troynovant is now no more a citie. 


Troynovant is now a sommer arbour, 

Or the nest wherein doth harbour 
The Eagle, of all birds that flie 
The souveraigne, for his peircing eie. 
If you wisely marke, 
'Tis besides a parke. 
Where runnes (being newly borne) 
With the fierce Lyon, the faire Unicorne ;* 

Or else it is a wedding hall, 

Where foure great kingdomes holde a festivall. 

Troynovant is now a bridall chamber, 
Whose roofe is gold, floore is of amber, 

By vertue of that holy light 

That burns in Hymens hand, more bright 
Than the silver moone, 
Or the torch of noone. 

Harke, what the ecchoes say ! 

Brittaine till now ne're kept a holiday ! 
For Jove dwels heere; and 'tis no pittie, 
If Troynovant be now no more a cittie.f 

* This alludes to the supporters of the royal arms, then 
"newly borne," but which have continued the same to the pre- 
sent day. (Note by Nichols in his " Progresses of James I.") 

f Dekker follows his song by this somewhat curious apo- 
loo-y: — "nor let the scrue of any wresting comment upon these 

" Troynovant is now no more a citie" 

enforce the authors invention away from his owne clearc, straight, 
and liarmlcsse mcaningo ; all the scope of this fiction stretching 



From the mayoralty pageant of 1613, by Thomas Middletoa 
the city poet. It is sung on the mayor's first appearance, and 
is thus introduced in the pamphlet descriptive of the day's 
proceedings : — " At Soper-lanc end a senate house (is) erected, 
upon which musitians sit playing; and more to quicken time, 
a sweet voyce (is) married to these wordes." London, " who is 
attired like a reverend mother," is the person addressed in the song. 

Mother of many honorable sonnes, 
Thinke not the glasse too slowly riinnes, 
That in Time's hand is set, 
Because thy worthy sonne appeares not yet: 
Lady be pleased, the hower growes on, 
Thy joy will be compleate anon; 

onely to this point, that London, to do honour to this day, 
wherin springs up all her hapjjiness, being ravished with unut- 
terable joyes, makes no account for the present of her ancient 
title to be called a cittie, because that, during these tri- 
umphs, she puts off her formal habit of trade and commerce, 
treading even thrift itself under foote, but now becomes a 
reveller and a courtier. So that albeit in the end of the first 
stanza 'tis said, — 

" Yet for all this, is't not a pitlie, 
Troynovant is now no more a cittie ?" 

" By a figure called Castigatio, or the mender, heere followes 
presently a reproofe ; wherein tytles of somraer arbor, the eagle's 
nest, a wedding hall, &c. are throwne upon her, the least of them 
being at this time, by vertue of poeticall heraldrye, but especial- 
lie in regard of the state that now upholds her, thought to be 
names of more honour than her owne. And this short apologie 
doth our verse make for itselfo, in regard that some, to whose 
settled judgment and authoritie the censure of these devices was 
referred, brought, though not bitterly, the life of these lines into 


Thou shalt behold 

The man enroll'd 
In honour's bookes, whom vertue raises; 

Love-circled round, 

His triumphs crowu'd, 
With all good wishes, prayers, and praises. 

What greater comfort to a mother's heart, 

Than to behold her sonnes desert : 

Goe hand in hand with love. 

Respect, and honor, blessings from above! 

It is of power all greefes to kill, 

And with a floud of joy to fill 

Thy aged eyes. 

To see him rise. 
With glory deck'd, where expectation, 

Gi'ace, truth and ftime, 

Met in his name, 
Attends his honor's confirmation.* 


From Anthony Munday's pageant for 1615, entitled, " Metro- 
polis Coronata, the Triumphes of Ancient Drapery." Munday 

* This pageant has been reprinted in Nichols's "Progresses 
of King James I," but, as the Rev. A. Dyce notices in his edition 
of Middleton's works, the second stanza of this song is oniitted 
altogether. In the old edition it is given at the end of the 
pageant, with the musical notes to which it was sung. 


was a popular ballad writer, and the easy flow of the verses of 
this song denote a hand well practised in this species of compo- 
sition. Some account of this author will be found in my "Lord 
Mayors' Pageants," Part I, p. 31, note. 

Now wend we together, my merry men all, 

Unto the forrest side-a; 
And there to strike a buck or a doe. 

Let our cunning all be tried-a. 

Then goe we merrily, merrily, on, 

To the green-wood to take up our stand, 

Where we will lye in waite for our game, 
With our bent bowes in our hand. 

What life is there like to Robin Hood ? 

It is so pleasant a thing-a; 
In merry Shirwood he spends his dayes 

As pleasantly as a king-a. 

No man may compare with Robin Hood, 
With Robin Hood, Scathlocke, and John; 

Their like was never, nor never will be. 
If in case that they were gone. 

They will not away from meiTy Shirwood, 

In any place else to dwell. 
For there is neither city nor towne 

That likes them halfe so well- 


Our lives are wholly given to hunt, 
And haunt the merry greene-wood, 

Where our best service is daily spent 
For our master Robin Hood. 


This song, by the city poet, Thomas MidcUeton, is extracted 
from his " Civitatis Amor, The Citie's Love. An entertaine- 
ment by water al Chelsey and Whitehall, at the ioyfull receiving 
of that illustrious hope of Great Britaine, the high and mighty 
Charles, to be created Prince of Wales, Duke of Cornwall, 
Earle of Chester, &c." Nov. 4th, 1616. On this occasion the 
mayor, aldermen, and several companies of the City of London, 
" were ready attending, with a great traine and costly entertain- 
ment, to receive his Highnesse at Chelsie ; their barges richly 
deckt with banners, streamers, and ensignes, and sundry sorts of 
lowd-sounding instruments, aptly placed amongst them." A 
personage figuring London, who is seated upon a sea-unicorn^ 
attended by tritons, and accompanied by Neptune, the Thames, 
and the Dee, meet the prince near Chelsea, and after the delivery 
of some complimentary verses, attend on him to Whitehall, where 
they are joined by Hope and Peace. The latter personage 
" sitting on a dolphin with her sacred quire," addresses the 
prince, (afterwards Charles I), in the following song. 

Welcome, oh welcome, spring of joy and peace! 

Born to be honour'd and to give encrease 

To those that waite upon thy graces; 

Behold the many thousand faces 

That make this amorous flood 

Looke like a moving wood, 

Usurping all her cristall spaces; 


'Mongst which the citie '« love is first, 

Whose expectations sacred thirst 

Nothing truely could allay, 

But such a prince and such a day. 

Welcome, Oh welcome; all faire joyes attend thee! 

Glorie of life, to safety we commend thee ! 


From Squire's Tryumph of Peace, 1620. The Muses appear with 
Apollo in the second water pageant, called Pernassus Mount. 
'• This accompanied the lord maior up to Westminstir, with 
variety of musique, where, while his honor was taking the oath, 
it returned backe, and met him in Paule's Church-yard, where 
Euterpe and Terpsichore entertained him with this song." 

We muses of the pleasant hill, 

That bathe within the Thespian spring, 
That did direct the Grecians quill, 

Who of olde Pelius' sonne did sing, 
We that Amphion did inspire 

With admired strains and layes. 
And did infuse a sacred fire 

In both these to gaine the bayes. 
We ApoUoes hand-mayds Nine, 

Come to meet thee on the way. 
That unto thy honours shrine, 

We might dedicate this day; 
And this ditty us among. 

So curiously shal wrest thy glory, 
That the envious 'mongst this throng 

Shall confesse it merits .story. 



From John Tatham's London's Tryiiwph, 1658, It was sung by 
the persons in the first pageant that clay exhibited, which " re- 
presented the manufacture of cUith-working." See History of 
Lord Mayors' Pageants, Part I, p. 66, for the passage in Tatham's 
descriptive pamphlet which introduces this song. 

Who can boast a happinesse 
More securely safe than we : 

Since our harmless thoughts we- dress, 
In a pure simplicitie: 

And chaste nature doth dispence, 
Here her beauties innocence. 

Envy is a stranger here ; 

Blest content our bowls doth crown : 
Let such slave themselves to fear, 

On whose guilt the judge doth frown 
We from evill actions are 

Free, as uncorrupted ayrc. 

With the turtles whisper love, 
With the birds do practice mirth : 

With our harmless shecpe we move, 
And receive our food from earth : 

Nor doe we disdaine to be 

Cloth'd witli the Lambs Livcrie. 



The former a Countryman, the other a Citizen. Presented to his 

Excellency and the Councill of State at Drapers' Hall, 

in London, March 28th, 1660. 

To the tune of Lie never love thee more. 

The period at which this dialogue was sung renders it of peculiar 
interest; and it may be looked on as an early revival of the semi- 
dramatic entertainments that had been frowned down by the 
Puritans, and which were usually exhibited on great occasions 
in the city. Its chief interest arises from the fact of Monk not 
having made his real intentions public at this period; indeed, he 
continued to wear the mask when it was no longer necessary ; 
and it was not until the fii'st of the following May, when Sir 
John Granville brought despatches, and the declaration of Breda 
from Charles II to Monk, in the council of state, (and for which 
he was put under arrest for the sake of appearances), that bis 
real meaning was known. He thus fully sounded parliament, 
and felt the pulse of the nation, who at this time were thoroughly 
tired of the Protectorate, and hailed Monk as a deliverer. The 
citizens were among the earliest to embrace the change, and the 
lord mayor and common council gave Granville £300, and named 
some of their council to wait upon his majesty. The dialogue 
here reprinted must have assured Monk, who acted throughout 
with the most consummate carefulness, of the safety of the course 
he had determined on taking: it was written by Thomas Jor- 
dan, who was made city-poet at the Restoration, — (See the 
introduction to my reprint of his Triumphs of London, 1678, 
Lord 3Iai/ors' Pageants, Part II), and is to be found in that very 
rare collection of political songs, Batts rhimed to Death, or the 
Bump Parliament hang'dup in the Shambles, 1660, where it is printed 

Tom. Now would I give my life to see 
This wondrous man of might. 
Dick. Do'st see that jolly lad ? That's he ; 
I'le warrant him he's right. 
Ther's a true Trojan in his face, 

c 2 


Observe him o're and o're. 

Dick. Come, Tom, if ever George be base, ) ^, 

T.T , 1 i^ 11 r Chorus. 

Ne re trust good lellow more. J 

He's none of that fantastique brood 
That murther while they pray: 

That trusse and cheat us for our good, 
(All in a godly way.) 

He drinks no blood, and they no sack 

Into their gutts will poure. 

But if George does not the knack, » _,, 

i Chorus. 
Ne re trust good fellow more. j 

His quiet conscience needs no guard. 

He's brave, but full of pitty. 
Tom. Yet, by your leave, he kuock'd so hard, 

H'ad like t' awak'd the city. 
Dick. Fool, 'twas the Rump that let 

The chains and gates it tore, 

ButifGeorgebearesnota true heart, \ ^, 

° 1 Chorus. 

Ne're trust good fellow more. ' 

Tom. Your city blades are cunning rooks, 
How rarely you collogue him ? 
But when your gates flew off the hooks. 
You did as much be-rogue him. 
Dick. Pugh ! Twas the Rump did onely feel 
The blowes the city bore : 
But if George be'nt as true as steel 
Ne're trust good fellow more. 

J- Chorus. 


Come, by this hand we'll crack a quart, 
Thou'lt pledge his health I trow. 
Tom. Tope, boy. — Dick. A lusty dish, my heart, 
Away w'ot. — Tom. Let it go. 

Drench me, you slave, in a full bowle 

rie take't an 'twere a score. 

Dick. Nay if George be 'nt a hearty soul, ) ^. 

^T , -. r. 1, r Chorus. 

Ne re trust good lellow more. J 

Tom. But heark you, sirrah, we're too loud, 

Hee'l hang us by and by ; 
Methinks he should be vengeance proud. 
Dick. No more then thee or I. 
Tom. Why then I'le give him the best blade 

That e're the bilbo wore. 
Dick. If George prove not a bonney lad, ) 

TVT , , ^ 11 . Chorus, 

JNere trust good lellow moi-e. 

Tom. 'Twas well he came, we'd mawll'd the tail ; 

We've all thrown up our farms, 
And from the musket to the flayl 

Put all our men in arms, 
The girles had ta'ne the members down, 

Ne're saw such things before. 

Dick. If George speak not the town our own ) ^, 

TVT , , mi I Chorus 

Ne re trust good fellow more. J 

Dick. But, pre'the, are the folk so mad? 
Tom. So mad say'st ? They're undone, 


There's not a penny to be had, 

And every mother's sonne 
Must fight, if he intend to eate, 

Grow valiant, now he is poor. 

Dick. Come, yet if George don't do the feat, 1 

' •' ° V Chorus. 

Ne're trust good fellow more. } 

Tom. Why, Richard, 'tis a devilish thing ; 

We're not left worth a groat. 
My Doll has sold her wedding-ring, 

And Sue has pawn'd her coat. 
The sniv'ling rogues abus'd our scj[uire, 

And call'd our mistresse whore. 

Dick. Yet, if George don't what we desire, ) ^„ 

, - „ J- Chorus. 

Ne're trust good fellow more. J 

Tom. By this good day, I did but speak, 
They took my py-ball'd mare, 
And put the carri'on wench to th' squeak, 

(Things go against the hair.) 
Our prick-ar'd cor'nell looks as bigg 
Still, as he did before. 
Dick. And yet if George don't humme his gigg, ) p, 
Ne're trust good fellow more. J 

Faith, Tom, our case is much at one, 
AVe're broak for want of trade ; 

Our city's baffled and undone. 
Betwixt the Rump and blade. 


We've emptied both our veins and baggs 

Upon a factious score ; 
If George compassion not our raggs, ) 

Ne're trust good fellow more. J 

Tom. But what doest think should be the cause 
Whence all these mischiefs spring ? 

Dick. Our damned breach of oath and laws, 

Our murther of the king. 

We have been slaves since Charl's his reign, 

We liv'd like lords before. 

If George don't set all right again, \ -,, 
T,.T , -,,.,, r <-^horus. 

We re trust good lellow more. J 

Tom. Our vicar — (and hee's one that knows) — 
Told me once, — I know what : — 
(And yet the chief is woundly close) 
Rich. Tis all the better ; — That. 

Ha's too much honesty and witt. 

To let his tongue run o're. 
If this prove not a lucky hitt, ) 
Ne're trust good fellow more. J 

Shall's ask him, what he means to do ? 
Tom. — Good faith, with all my heart; 

Thou mak'st the better leg o' th' two : 

Take thou the better part. 
rie follow, if thow't lead the van, 
Rich. Content, — I'le march before. 

If George prove not a gallant man, ) 
Ne're trust good fellow more. J 


My lord ! in us the nation craves 

But what you're bound to do. 

Tom. We have liv'd drudges. — Ric. — And we slaves. 

Both. "We would not die so too. 

Restore us but our laws agen ; 

Th' unborn shall thee adore : 

If George denies us his Amen, \ ^. 

° \ Chorus. 

Ne're trust good fellow more, J 


At Goldsmiths' Hall, Tuesday, April 11th. By three persous, 
an Englishman, a Welshman, and a Scotchman. 

London : printed for Thomas Morgan, and are to be sold at the 
Royal Exchange, in Cornhill, 1660. 

This dramatic trifle, conceived pro <em;wre, and having allusion 
only to the unsettled state of the country, isstill of much interest, 
as it evidently was intended to assure Monk of the feeling held 
by the most powerful body in the city, at ;. time when his inten- 
tions wer'^ only suspected. At this period most of the city compa- 
nies entertained Monk, and were careful to point out their opinion 
of the necessity of a change, by some allusion either in a song 
or speech. The Goldsmiths, Fishmongers, Skinners, and Dra- 
pers thus displayed their feeling. Tlie spceche.N at the three 
former entertainments are given in Jordan's Nursery of Novelties. 
Monk had visited Goldsmith's Hull on April 9th, and heard a 
speech " from a sea-captain, after a song concluding with a chorus 
of Amity." This " representation," performed at ^lie same place 
two days afterwards, was printed as u (juarto tract of four leaves; 
a copy is in the library of the City of London, at GiiiUlhall. 


Officer. — How now, friends ! whither are you crowd- 
ing so fast ? Pray get ye back again and wipe your 
shoos. Who invited you, I wonder ? If y'are hungry, 
stay till the scraps come forth, which will be about four 
or five hours hence. 

Englishman. — Pray, good man, Jack-hold-my-staffe, 
be good in your office. Sirrah, we came to see the 
General ; vve have as much businesse with him as the 
best of 'em all that has invited him hither. 

Office!'. — We'll hear no petitions to day. 

Englishman. — Petition ! we come not to petition, 
friend ! he has done our businesse without a petition 

Officer. — He had much to do, I warrant, when he 
did your businesse. 

Englishman. — Friend, you need not be so angry; 
we come not to defraud you of the least bit that you 
intend to carry home to your wife for her provision 
till the next quarter feast ; for, give me leave to tell 
thee, we have been as good housekeepers as some of 
your masters, and kept better men then thou to wipe 
our shoos, and now I hope we shall do so again. 

Officer. — You are sufferers then in the times. Her 's 
one, I warrant, whose catt has dy'd with eating a poy- 
son'd ratt. Her's another who's two ducks and one 
drake used to sleep at his bed's head, and he has now 
lost all, by the maledictions of the old witch, his neigh- 
bour. Her's another had but one torn shirt, which was 
stollen by a gypsie as it hung upon a hedge a-drying, 


one Saturday in the afternoon. And for your part, 
Goodman Prate-a-pace, what have you lost, I wonder? 
your dogs-leather hedging-gloves, I warrant, or some 
such precious piece of treasure ! 

Englishman. — The fellow would fain be witty before 
the Masters of the Company. Alas ! it would stand 
thee in little stead had we a mind to retort ; but that 
is not our businesse. We are come to make our 
General merry, for making us meriy. Sirrah, we have 
been at charges for a jmivet, and the fidlers, and, there- 
fore, I tell thee we will see our General], and sing him 
a song, and give him thanks for his care of us all. 

Welshman. — Sirrah, if her will not [let her] see her 
Sheneral, and sing her a fine song, which her ha pay'd 
her share for the making, her will preak her pusee- 
potie's pate. 

Officer. — T care not for your songs ; you come not 
here unlesse I know better who you are. 

Englishman. — Friend, I am a Cheshire-man who 
had lost my tenure of a good farm for siding with my 
landlord. Sir George Booth, but I now have got it 
again, thanks to our General. 

Welshman. — And her pe shentleman of Wallis, and 
her lost her create fortune for her creat loofe to her 
ci-eat landlord, Sir Thomas Middleton; but her have cot 
it acain, her thank her cood Sheneral. 

Scot. — In troath noow they hud gotten een aw ; and 
aw for becose Ise ha sarved my gude loard and mais- 
ser, the King. But whare be those muckle traitors 
noow ? introath, friend, wee's come for nething else 


but to garr the General take notice of our loove, — tell 
liim for his muckle paiiies and care of us, and of aw 
the kingdom. 

Officer. — Well, stay there, and if the Generall will 
be troubled with your impertinences, I'le give ye 

Englishman. — Now thou speak'st like an honest 
fellow ; dost heare ? if thou canst but get us in, wee'l 
give thee sixpence a piece. 

After a little pause the Officer returns. 

Officer. — AVel, if your song be good you may come 
in, but be advis'd of that, for if it ben't, you'l be 
soundly, soundly laught at; and for your poet, tell him 
from me, if he come oif basely, the Company will not 
give him a brass token ; and so you lose your credit, 
and he his labour. 


To the tune of The Grecian Army. 

No more good people, talk no more 
Of what the Champion did of yoi-e; 
I care not a pin what stories forge 
Of Bevis, or of great St. George, 
Who dragon did slaughter. 
To get the king's fair daughter 

For his wifej 
Which was truly. 
And most duly. 

The bravest thinij he did in his life. 



To the Highlander's New Rant. 

Nor Ise ne care at aw 

For kuintry man, St. Andrew, 
Although he ware as gude a swerd 

As ever mucklc man drew. 
For though he did redeem 

The ladies fair and breeght, 
Yet had the swains bin still 
But for gude Willy's leeght. 
Away then, 
Stay not, 
What gare's us be silent ? 
Wee'l feast our Monk, though now it be high Lent. 


To >,he tune of Fortune, Sfc. 
Nor for our old St. Taffie to I care, 

Who slew a mighty shyant without laughter; 
Yet for th' excessive pains he took that tay, 

Full fast he sleeped seaven whole years after. 


To tlie tunc of JUiut you please. 

But our St. George hath set as free 
From a base Rump's bold slavery; 
Poor England now shall bleed no more ; 

And Wallis sal pe as her was before. 



The war in Scotland first did swagger, 

But there first ends, Jemmy put up thy dagger. 

To the tune of The Grecian Army, as before. 

You base Excisemen and commitee's 
That swagger'd over towns and city's. 
While the sad ploughmen plough'd in grief. 
And yet poor swains had no relief. 

Must now go down, 

And stoop to the abused clown ; 

For like the sun 

In his glory. 

In his story 
Monk is resolv'd not to be out don. 


To the tune of The Highlanders New Rant, as before. 

Ah! out! out away phanaticks! 

"Who ken not what yee'd have ; 
Your plots be aw discover'd 

The nation to enslave ; 
Our cities now ne mere shall pay 

The hire of their fetters ; 
Ne mere shall major generals 
Now rant it or'e their betters ; 
For Monk's come, 
That Monk 
Whom all men prize 
To heal up all our past maladies. 



To the tune of Fortune. 

And now lier tested cheese, her eat and sing, 
And freely drink a health unto her king: 
Ap Thomas ap Middleton give me thy hand, 
For now our sister Chester's walls shall stand. 

Chorus. To the tune Q. Dido.* 

Brave hero, then in thy brave rage 

Proceed, which hath i-ais'd up our age, 
To say you were from heaven let down, 

To give the wronged heir his crown. 
For well the wayes of truth you take 
The ballance even now to make. 
All our long differences bend 

Ah'eady to a settled end. 
For which we now must all agree 

To give the stile of just to thee, 
Bequeathing unto after story 

The care of thy uublemisli't glory. 

* All the tunes named in this entertainment may be found in the 
various editions of Playford's Ev gli si i Dancing Master, 1650-1721. 
The two last mentioned are as old aa the time of Shakspere. 



From Ogilby's Relation of his Majesty's entertainment passitig 
thmigh the City of London to his Coronation, April 22, 1661, on 
which occasion it was sung by Concord, Love, and Truth, in the 
third triumphal arch or pageant which was placed " near Wood- 
street end, not far from the place where the Cross formerly 
stood." The musick, we are told, was '* all composed by 
Matthew Lock, Esq., composer in ordinary to his majesty." 
The allusion to Charles as the prince whom — 
" The stars so long foretold" 

in the second line of this song, refers to the appearance of a 
star on the morning of his birth, Saturday, May 29 th, 1630, and in 
the fourth pageant this day exhibited, Plenty addresses him with — 

" Great Sir; tlie star which at your happy birth 
Joy'd with his beames at noon tlie wond'ring earth, 
Did with auspicious lustre, tlien, presage 
The glitt'ring plenty of this golden age." 

This star was a fertile subject for the flatterers of Charles, 
and they carried their adulation to a great length. One Edward 
Matthew "of the Middle Temple, Esq.," published in 1661 a 
small volume in 12mo, entirely on this subject; it is entitled 
" The most glorious Star, or celestial constellation of the Pleiades 
or Charles's waine, appearing and shining most brightly in a 
miraculous manner in the face of the sun at noonday, at the 
nativity of our sacred sovereign King Charles II, presaging his 
majesties exaltation to future honour and greatnesse, transcending 
not only the most potent Christian princes in Europe, but by 
Divine designment ordained to be the most mighty monarch in 
the universe; never any starre having appeared before at the 
birth of any, (the highest humane hei-o), except our Saviour." 
From this title page the whole tenour of the book, (which is 
said to be "printed for the use and benefit of William Byron, 
Gent)" may be guessed at. Flattery, is in fact, carried to the 
very extreme, and the author declares that " as Christ Jesus 
was the world's celestiall and eternal saviour, so hath God sent 


our soveraigne king to be a terrestrial temporal saviour" to 
the three kingdoms. He then endeavours to pro^e the stai' the 
same as that which appeared at the Saviour's birth; and j/rophccics, 
dreams, and prodigies are all raked together to show that Chai-les 
was by "Divine Providence pre-ordained to be the most pious, 
prudent, and potent prince in the universe." His sufferings are 
parallelled with the Saviour's, " the same time of age, (about 
thirtj-), and of the year when our Saviours resurrection and ascen- 
sion came to passe. Divine Providence hath brought to passe for our 
soveraigne King Charles, his restitution to his just rights, and 
his ascension to his royall sceptre and crowne." In the same 
strain the author explains the seven stars held in the hands of 
" one like the Son of Man" in the Revelations, as intended to 
typify Charles the Second " our king, in the hand of our God," 
and proposes that May, the month in which he was born, bo 
henceforth called Carolus, as heaven does not disdain to have a 
celestial sign known b}- the name of Charles." Without some such 
proof as this of the intoxication of men's 'uinds at the Restora- 
tion, it is impossible to understand the licenses allowed to Cliarles, 
and a debauched court : licenses, that in the end, deprived 
them all of a people's love, and destroyed the honour and liberty 
of the nation. 

Comes not liere the king of peace, 
Triioni tlie stars so long- foretold 

From all woes should us release, 
Converting iron times to gold? 
Behold, behold! 

Our prince confirm'd by heav'nly signs, 
Brings healing balm, 
Brings healing balm, and anodines. 
To close our wounds, and pain asswage. 

He comes with conqu'ring bays, and palm, 
Where swelling billows us'd to rage, 


Gliding on a silver calm; 

Let these arched roofs resound^ 
Joyning instruments, and voice, 

Fright pale spirits underground ; 
But let heav'n and earth rejoyce, 

We our happiness have found. 

He, thus marching to be crown'd, 
Attended with this glorious train, 
From civil broils 
Shall free these isles, 

Whilst hee and his posterity shall reign. 

Who follow trade, or study arts. 

Improving pasture or the plow. 
Or furrow waves to foreign parts. 

Use your whole endeavours now. 
His brow, his brow, 
Bids your hearts as well as hands, 
Together joyn. 

Together joyning bless these lands ; 
Peace and concord, never poor. 
Will make with wealth these streets to shine, 

Ships freight with spice, and golden ore, 
Your fields with honey, milk, and wine. 

To supply our neighbours store. 



From " Aqua Triumphalis ; being a true relation of the 
Honourable the City of London's entertaining their sacred 
Majesties upon the river of Thames, and wellcoming them from 
Hampton Court to Whitehall. Expressed and set forth in 
severall shews and pageants, the 23 day of August, 1662." The 
production of the city poet, John Tatham. 

The barges of the twelve companies were, on this occasion, 
carried up the river as far as Chelsea, and " most of the barges 
are attended with a pageant." These pageants were "placed 
at the head of every barge." The Mercers exhibited their 
crowned Virgin seated with three maids of Honour and six 
pages. The Drapers exhibited a "grave Roman magistrate, 
habited in a long robe, on his head a helmet, in his right 
hand he holds a sceptre, in his left a triple crown, a sword 
girt to him. His attendants are four ; Loyalty, Truth, Fame, 
and Honour. The stage of the Merchant Taylors' pageant is 
twelve feet long, and seven broad, arched with a wild 
arbour made in manner of a wildernesse, where is seated an aged 
man representing a pilgrim, and habited accordingly. In one 
hand he holds a staff, in the other a banner, bearing the figure of 
a golden lamb, with this motto ' inter nocentes innocens.' This 
alludes to St. John, the patron of their company: for his attend- 
ants he hath Faith, Hope, and Charity." They also exhibited the 
supporters of the company's arms, and the camels and Indians, as 
usual in the pageants of the mayors of that company. The Gold- 
smiths exhibited a figure of Justice, under a canopy of state, at- 
tended by two virgins. The " bravery " of the other companies 
pageants are not described," lest it be too tedious." The day's pro- 
ceedings are thus briefly given : — " between 8 and 9 of the clock, 
the Lord Mayor and court of Aldermen move toward Chelsey, 
where they attend their Majesties comming from Putney, and 
then the Lord Mayor leads the waj' down the river before their 
Majesties. The grand pageants appointed for this day are placed 
thus: the first at Chelsey; the second between Fox-hall and 
Lambeth ; the third at the private staires at Whitehall. There 
are two drolls, one of Watermen, the other of Seamen, con- 
tinually imployed in dancing and singing; the droll of Water- 


men is placed between Chelsey and Fox-hall. That of Seamen 
between Lambeth and Whitehall, cross the Thames, where there 
is severall tricks of activity performed, both on the stage and the 
rope ; and the Seamen throw themselves into severall antick 
postures and dances." The three grand pageants are a sea chariot 
drawn by sea horses, in which sits Isis and her water nymphs ; 
an island, upon which is seated Thames, " an old man with long 
hair and beard," attended by water nymphs, one bearing on her 
head " the figure of Greenwich castle," the other, " the figure of 
Windsor castle." A lion and unicorn stand in front, upon which 
a Scotch and English boy is seated, bearing the national ban- 
ners : " a sea chariot made in the manner of a scallop shell, drawn 
with two dolphins, on whose backs are placed two Tritons." In 
this chariot Thetis appears. Isis, Thames, and Thetis, each ad- 
dress long rhyming speeches to their Majesties. 

Two songs are sung, one in the " droll of Watermen," which is 
this one now printed, the other a short song and chorus of ten 
lines, in the " droll of Indians and Seamen." The songs, we are 
told, " were set by Mi-. John Gamble, one of his Majesties ser- 
vants, a person well known in musick." This composer, termed 
" a play house musician," was a celebrated performer on the Viol 
da Gamba, and one of Charles II's famous " four-and-twenty fid- 
dlers : " he was a pupil of Ambrose Beyland, and published two 
books of "Ayres and Dialogues," in 1651 and 1659, the poetry of 
which was the composition of Thomas Stanley. Gamble appears 
to have been always intimate with the city poets, as recommend- 
atory verses to his first book were written by Tatham, and to 
his second by Thomas Jordan. He died in 1680. 

Let sadness flie, boyes, flie, 
The king and queen draw nigh, 

And their loyal train 

Pour in amain, 
Like hailstones from the skie, 

The town to fill, 

And fears to kill 
The tradesmen had of breaking, 

D 2 


Who scarce a pennie 

"Would spare to any, 
They were so poor and sneaking; 
But now 

Speed the plow. 
All will be 

Imploy'd and free, 
From the Mercer to the Draper, 

All sorts and all sizes 

Of trades and devises, 
Will make us sing and caper. 

The river shall no more 
Catch cold or be bound o're; 

Wee'le keepe her in heat, 

Use does the feat, 
Though winter fume and roare; 

The prentice he. 

Of each degree, 
To Lambeth or to Fox-hall,* 

With their lasses, cry. 

What oares will you ply? 
Where are you with a — all? 
See then 

You be men. 
And stand to't, 

Set a hand to't, 
That our stretchers may be working, 

* A corruption of Vaux-hall, which derives its name from an 
ancient family of the name of Vuux, one of whom, Jane Vaux, 
occupied premises there in the year 1615. 


For if you intend, boy, 
A penny to spend, boy, 
You must get it with yerkiug. 

A lazie life is base. 
True labour we embrace; 

'Tis the best physick 

To cure the tissick, 
111 humours purge apace; 

Our sweats, and pains 

Brings health and gains, 
Which makes us bouncing merry, 

We ne're are orejoy'd, 

Till we are employ 'd 
In sculler, oares, or wherry: 

Then sing 

Blesse the king 

And the queen, 

And all here seen. 
That masters are, and feed us 

With meat and wine stored. 

When they are once shored. 
And for Spring Garden* need us. 

* A place of entertainment denominated Spring Garden (not 
an uncommon appellation for places of the kind near London) 
was situated opposite Vauxhall, and near the river. Pepys, in 
his diary, thus describes it:—" July 27, 1688. So over the water, 
with my wife and Deb, and Mercer, to Spring Garden, and there 
eat and walked ; and observed how rude some of the young gallants 
of the town are become, to go into people's arbors where there 
are not men, and almost force the women, which troubled me, 
to see the confidence of the vice of the age ; and so we away by 
water with much pleasure home." 

4 5 3 >> I 



From Jordan's "London Triumphant; or the Cityin jolUty and 
splendour. 1672." The King was present on this occasion, and 
dined with the Mayor in Guildhall; " where," saj-s Jordan, " his 
lordship and the guests being all seated, the city musii-k began 
to touch their instruments with very artful fingers ; and after a 
lesson being played, and their ears as well feasted as their mouths, 
a person with a good voice, in good humour, and audible utter- 
ance (the better to provoke digestion) sings this new droll, to 
the tune of With a fading." 

Let's drink and droll, and dance and sing, 
And merrily cry, Long live the king: 
'Tis friendship and peace 
Makes trading increase: 
Blind Fortune has plaid 
The changeable jade; 
We may curse her. 

Lets sum up all that hath been done, 
Fx'om forty-two till seventy-one. 
Then he that loves changes. 

Let him go on: 
But I'le venture my fiddle, and forty to one 
'Twill be worser. 

When ordinance laws beat down the kings. 
And Peters preach'd for thimbles and rings; * 

* An allusion to the great general contributions of plate and 
money to aid the Parliament, made by the inhabitants of London 
in lf)42, when Charles I erected his standard at Nottingham, and 
prepared by force of arms, to crush tluxt liberty he had sworn to 


When all that we priz'd 
Were sacrific'd; 

What did it produce 

For general use, 
But confusion. 

The conjuring party raised then 
Spirits they ne're could lay agen; 
But sufFei*'d disasters, 
Their servants grew masters; 
Who slighted their votes, 
And cudgell'd their coats 
In conclusion. 

Thus did our holy war succeed, 

It made two hundred thousand bleed, 

protect. With a noble emulation, " not only the wealthiest citi- 
zens and gentlemen who were near dwellers, brought in their 
large bags and goblets, but the poorer sort, like that widow in 
the Gospel, presented their mites also ; insomuch that it was a 
common jeer of men disaffected to the cause, to call this the 
thimble and bodkin army." (^May Hist. Parl.^ 

Butler alludes to this general levy in his " Hudibras," pt. i, 
canto 2, when he declares that the Londoners coined 

bowls and flaggons, 

Into officers of horse and dragoons ; 
And into piies and musqueteers 
Stamp beakers, cups, and porringers ; 
A thimble, bodkin, and a spoon. 
Did start up living men, as soon 
As in the furnace they were tlu-owu. 
Just like the dragon's teeth being sown." 

And in part ii, canto 2, be alludes to the women who- 

'■ Brought in their children's spoons and whistles, 
To purchase swords, carbines, and pistols." 


And fellows that neither could write nor read, 
Did scatter in pulpits 
The sanctifi'd seed 
Of division. 
The captain of a troop of horse,* »Ciomwei. 

With courage and conduct, cunning and force, 
TheCrown, King, and Kingdom, did divorce; 
And put the land into a Protecterly course. 
By excision. 

And after that great fatal blow, 
What did become of all, you know. 
The right royal heir 
Return'd to his chair; 
By no means fallacious, 
But by a good gracious 

Now let us survey this present age, 
Where freedom enlargeth the bounds of the stage: 
'Tis pleasanter far than ruin and rage. 
That swagger'd and sway'd 
AVhen Oliver play'd 
The Protector. 

Our ensigns now are turn'd to smocks; 
And ladies fight with their fire-locks; 
Wine, women, and sturgeon, 
Make work for the surgeon. 
The bonny bulFjacket 
Duth tilt at a placket 
Of roses. 


Thus have you heard the changes I'ung, 
As much as may be said or sung: 
We must he no talkers, 
For fear the night-walkers 
Do watch for our words, 
And wait with their swords, 
For our noses.* 

* Slitting the nose, or otherwise disfigitring the face, was no 
uncommon mode of revenging a real or imagined insult in " the 
merry days " of Charles the Second. The court, as corrupt as the 
commons, participated in the same mode of revenge. In 1670, 
Sir John Coventry put a question in the House of Commons, 
which was taken as a reflection on the King's low amours ; he 
was denounced with fury at court, and Charles determined on 
revenge. " The Duke of York," says Burnet, "told me he said 
all he could to the King to divert him from the resolution he took, 
which was to send some of the guards, and watch in the streets 
where Sir John lodged, and leave a mark upon him. Sands and 
O'Brian, and some others went thither, and, as Coventry was 
going home, they drew about him. He stood up to the wall and 
snatched the flambeau out of his servant's hand, and with that in 
one hand and his sword in the other, he defended himself so 
well that he got more credit by it than by all the actions of his 
life. He wounded some of them, but was soon disarmed ; and 
then they cut his nose to the bone, to teach him to remember 
what respect he owed to the King ; and so they left him, and 
went back to the Duke of Monmouth's, where O'Brian's arm was 
dressed. That matter was executed by orders fi-om the Duke of 
Monmouth, for which he was severely censured, because he lived 
then in professions of friendship with Coventry, so that his sub- 
jection to the King was not thought an excuse for directing so 
vile an attempt on his friend, without sending him secret notice 
of what was designed. Coventry had his nose so well sewed up 
that the scar was scarcely to be discerned." This outrage was 
so atrocious, that even the Parliament could not overlook it ; and 
they passed a bill known by the name of the Coventry act, making 
cutting and maiming a capital offence: but they had not courage 
sufficient to bring the King's bravoes to trial. 



This song, from the same mayoralty pageant as the preceding 
one, was snng immediately after it, and Jordan thus introduces it: 
" this droll being ended, and well approved, a hearty cup of wine 
is set round the table ; in the mean time, the musick express 
their skill in playing divers new sprightly ayres, whilst another 
musician, with a cup of sack puts his pipe in tune to sing this 
medley consisting of six several tunes." The freedom with which 
Jordan has thought proper to satirise the court, and the notorious 
ingratitude of Charles the Second to the cavaliers who had as- 
sisted in purse and person to reinstate him, is a little extraor- 
dinary, Charles being an invited guest, and of course compelled 
to hear it. Jordan seems to have felt on the conclusion of the 
" fifth ayre " that he had said quite enough, and excusing him- 
self, turns the subject as loyally as possible ; so that he tells us 
" the conclusion of the song gave occasion for a health to his 
Majesty, which was cheerfully performed." 


I'll never trust good fellow more, 

For I was told 

My shelves should shine with gold, 
Bright as Tagus yellow shore: 
But now the iron age is gone, 

An age of stone 

I fear is rolling on ; 
Or a heavy leaden one. 

Old loyalty is cranip'd with cold. 

And laid aside like tales too often told. 

Or not regarded, because 'tis old: 


Our trumpet's turn'd into a slialm,* 

But yet our wounds have neither tent nor bahn, 

We freeze in fire, drown in a calm. 


The city now 

And country too, 
Cry out to the court they have nothing to do ; 

Tlie stage and stews, 

Our gallants use. 
And mostof our Gentiles are turn'd into Jews j 

For when justice turns player, 

We may despair 

Of ever having an end on't. 
We have laid all our trade by, 
Ne're worse made by 

Presbyter or Independant: 
It ner'e was so bad 
We ner'e were more mad ; 

But we must needs fall. 

When the dammees get all: 

* Sir John Hawkins has engraved in his " History of Music," 
(vol. ii, p. 450) a representation of the Shalm, from Luscinius' 
"Musurgia," 1536; he says that its name is derived "from 
calamus, a reed, which is a part of it." It appears to have been a 
rude and warlike species of hautboy. It has been confounded by 
some writers with instruments of a totally different construction ; 
the clearest and best account of it to be met with is in Dauncy's 
preliminary dissertation to the "Ancient Scottish Melodies," pub- 
lished from the Skene MS., at Edinburgh, in 1838. 


From a king-killing saint, 
Patch, powder and paint, 

"Where e're they be, 

Libera nos Domine. 


The world is but a moral cheat, 
And every vice is good that's great; 
Religion is a nose of wax, 
Which politicks use to raise a tax: 
Lust is no sin in 
Fair white linnen. 

Or a fair cambrick frock on: 
Yet for pride, 
Jane Shore died, 
Some say with never a smock on. 
The politician 
Calls ambition 

By the name of honour; 
But fortune 
Spoils our tune, 

A mischief light upon her. 


Hypocrisie and fair pretences 

The city, the country, and camp. 
And all must pass current, 

I'm sure on't, 


That come from the mint with a politick 
The sects we have, 
And gallants brave 

Do the self-same tenet hold, 

For both can turn the gospel into gold ; 
To yea and nay 
We were a prey, 

But in this our latter fall, 

Your humble servant, madam, cheats us all. 


Little we find 

In the turn of the wind 

' For consolation; 
Times are well changed, but crimes are the same; 
Nothing is right 
To the minds that delight 

In reformation; 
Pride and ambition are cocks of the game. 

He that can gallant it in the French rode. 
Swear he is valiant, and dance a-la-mode, 

By ladies letter-case, 

Shall have a better place, 
Than me or he 
That hath indur'd the lode. 

But still I hope that the Vice of the Times 
"Will not be permanent, pardon my rhimes, 


I'll do no person wrong 
With my pen or my tongue, 
Though I let fly so high at lofty crimes. 


Leave oflP thinking now, 

And laugh a little ; 
Fall a-drinking too, 

And quaff a little. 

Good Canary never 
Did miscarry ever ; 

Drink, or no good fellow will care for ye : 
Wine will never prick out popish crotchets, 
Sack will never pick at copes and rochets ; 

He that hatcheth treason 

In a merry season, 
Is a fellow void of love and reason. 

They that freely tipple, envy none that rise, 

But are well contented, 

And consented, 


To be truly out of care, 

And free from that plague 
Which rides like a hag, the wise. 

Let us all be merry, laugh, and (diange our 
drink ; 
Hold it, fill it, swill it ; 


Drink it fair, and do not spill it ; 
Take it, 
Shake it, 
Vive le Roy. 

We'll trade 

And wade 

In no other joy 

But drink, 

Then drink.* 

* Jordan tells us, " after the King's health, the musick play a 
well composed lively suit of ayres, and make ready for a third 
song," which is sung " to the tune of Have at all," (The words 
of which are to be found in Ritson's Ancient Songs, under the title 
of the Neu' Courtier), and is filled with reflections on the tran- 
sitory nature of all things, and the follies of the day. The two 
following stanzas are all that are worth extracting as illustra- 
tive of manners; the burthen of the song being " Touch and go." 

" The gayest gallants of our age 
Are become students of the stage : 
Oxford and C ambridge we lay by, 
For play-house university ; 

Like glow-worms in the night they show, 
Wliom when the sun 
Doth peep upon, 

Touch and go. 

Another to express vain glory, 
Cryes dam him, ten times in one story ; 
He stares and struts at such a rate 
As if he'd hxeak St. George's pate ; 

But when state stormy winds do blow. 
From drums and guns, 
Away he runs : 

Touch and go." 



This Song is also printed from Thomas Jordnn's "London Tri- 
umphant," 1672, where it is simply called " a song." It has been 
printed with the above title before 1682, as it appears with it in 
Heni-y Playfords collection of songs entitled " Wit and Mirth, 
an Antidote against Melancholy," the third edition of which book 
appeared in that year. Ritson printed it in his "Ancient Songs," 
adding the music fi-om Durfey's " Pills to purge melancholy," of 
which Playford's book (a small 8vo. of 128 pages) was the pre- 
cursor; and ho introduces it with "this Jordan was the pro- 
fessed pageant writer and poet laureat for the city, and, if author 
of the following piece, seems to have possessed a gi'cater share of 
poetical merit than usually fell to the lot of his profession." 

I AM a lusty lively lad, 

Now come to one-and-twenty, 
My father left me all be had, 

Both gold and silver plenty: 
Now he's in grave, I will be brave, 

The ladies shall adore me, 
rie court and kiss, what bur "^ in tliis? 

My dad did so before me. 

My father was a thrifty sir, 

Till soul and body sundred, 
Some say he was a usui-er 

For thirty in the hundred ; 
He scrapt and scratch t, she pinch'd and patcli'd. 

That in her body bore me. 
But rie lot flie, good cause why. 

My father was born before me. 


My daddy had his duty done 

In getting so much treasure ; 
I'le be as dutiful a son 

For spending it in pleasure. 
Five pound a quart shall chear my lieart, 

Such nectar will restore me ; 
When ladies call, I'le have at all, 

My father was born before me. 

My grandam lived in Washington, 

M.y grandsir delv'd in ditches, 
The son of old John Thrashington, 

Whose lanthorn leathern breeches 
Cry'd, Whether go ye ? whether go ye ? 

Though men do now adore me, 
They ne'er did see my pedigree, 

Nor who was born before me. 

My grandsir striv'd, and wiv'd, and thriv'd, 

Till he 'id riches gather, 
And when he had much wealth atchiev'd, 

O! then he got my father. 
Of happy memory, cry I, 

That e're his mother bore him, 
I had not been worth one penny 

Had I been born before him. 

To free-school, Cambridge, and Grays-Inn, 
My gray-coat grandsir put him, 


Till to forget, he did begin, 

The leathern breech that got him : 

One dealt in straw, t'otlier in law, 
The one did ditch and delve it, 

My father store of satin wore, 
My grandsir beggar's velvet. 

So I get wealth, what care I if 

My grandsir were a sawyer, 
My father prov'd to be a chief, 

Subtle and learned lawyer. 
By Cook's Reports, and tricks in courts. 

He did with treasure store me, 
That I may say, heavens bless the day 

My father was born before me ! 

Some say of late, a merchant that 

Had gotten store of riches. 
In 's dining-room hung up his hat. 

His staif, and leathern breeches ; 
His stockings garter'd up with straws. 

Ere Providence did store him; 
His son was sheriff of London, 'cause 

His father was born before him. 

So many blades that rant in silk, 
And put on scarlet cloathing, 

At first did spring from butter-milk. 
Their ancestors worth nothing. 


Old Adam, and our graiidani Eve, 

By digging and by spinning, 
Did to all kings and princes give 

Their radical beginning. 

My father, to get my estate, 

Though selfish, yet was slavish, 
I'll spend it at another rate, 

And be as lewdly lavish ; 
From madmen, fools, and knaves, lie did 

Litigiously receive it. 
If so he did, justice forbid 

But I to such should leave it. 

At play-houses, and Tennis-court, 

I'll prove a noble fellow j 
I'll court my doxies to the sport, 

Of, O brave Punchinello !* 

* This is an early notice of this popular character. In the 
curious and amusing letter-press to Cruikshank's admirable illus- 
trations of the popular puppet-show, now known as " Punch and 
Judy," its learned author has been unable to discover any 
earlier notice for his chapter " on the arrival of Punch in En- 
gland," or that hero's popularity in our own country, than the 
annals of Anne's reign afforded. But he deduced from the fact 
" that no writer of the reign of Queen Anne, who notices him 
at all, speaks of him as a novelty," that he could not have " only 
recently emigrated from his native country." The above line 
shows that he was popularly known and appreciated in the reign 
of Charles n. 



I'll dice, and drab, and drink, and stnl), 
No Hector shall out-roar me; 

If teachers tell me tales of hell. 
My father is gone before rae. 




From Jordan's "Goldsmiths' Jubile," IC74, see "History of 
Lord Mayors' Pageants," (Part I, p. 82), Sir Robert Vyner, of 
the Goldsmiths' Company, being mayor. Charles II, the Queen, 
the Duke and Duchess of York, Prince Rupert, the Duke of 
Monmouth, and others of the nobilit}' were present at the 
banquet in Guildhall. 

Let all the Nine Muses lay by their abuses, 

Their railing, and drolling on tricks of the Strand, 
To pen us a ditty in praiise of the city, [mand. 

Their treasure, and pleasure, their pow'r and com- 
Their feast, and guest, so temptingly drest. 

Their kitchens all kingdoms replenish; 
In bountiful bowls they do succour their souls. 

With claret, canary and Khenish : 
Their lives and wives in plentitude thrives. 

They want neither meat nor money; 
The promised Land 's in a Londoner's hand, 

They wallow in milk and honey. 


For laws, and good orders, Jj. mayor, and recorders. 

And sheriff, with councils, keep all in decorum ; 
The simple in safety from cruel and crafty, 

When crimes of the times are presented before 'um. 
No town as this in Christendom is, 

So quiet by day and night ; 
No ruffin, or drab, dares pilfer or stab, 

And hurry away by flight : 
Should dangers come, at beat of drum, 

(It is in such strong condition) 
An army 'twould raise in a very few days, 

With money and ammunition. 

For science, and reading, true wit, and good breeding, 

No city's exceeding in bountiful fautors;* 
No town under heaven doth give, or has given, 

Such portions to sons, or such dowries to daughters. 
Their name and fame doth through all the world flame. 

For courage and gallant lives: 
No nation that grows, are more curstf to their foes, 

Or kinder unto their wives : 
For bed and board, this place doth afford 

A quiet repose for strangers ; 
The lord mayor and shi'ieves take such order with 

Men sleep without fear of dangers. 

For gownmen, and swordmen, this place did afford men, 
That were of great policy, power, and renown ; 

* Benefactors. f Disagreeable. — Cross-grained. 


A mayor of this city,* stout, valliant siiid witty, 

Subdu'd a whole army, by stabbing of one ; 
A traytor, that ten thousand men gat 

Together in war-like swarms ; 
And for this brave feat, his red dagger is set 

In part of the city arms.f 
Should I declare the worthies that are. 

And did to this place belong, 
Twould puzzle my wit : and I think it more tit 

For a chronicle, than a song. 

One meanly descended, and weakly attended, 

By Fortune befriended, in this city plac'd, 
From pence unto crowns, from crowns unto pounds 

Up to hundreds and thousands hath risen at last. 
In chain of gold, and treasure untold, 

In skarlet, on horseback to boot ; 
(To th' joy of his mother) when his elder brother 

It may be, has gone on foot. 
Such is the fate of temporal state, 

For providence thinks it fit. 
Since the eldest begat must enjoy the estate, 

The youngest shall have the wit. 

I'lague, famine, fire, sword, as our stories record. 
Did unto this city severely fix. 

* Sir William Walworth, who slew Wat Tyler. 
+ See History of Lord Mayors' Paf^cauts, I'art I, p. 117, note, 
for a refutation of this " vulgar error." 


And flaming September, will make us remember 

One thousand six hundred sixty-six, 
When house, and hall, and churches did fall, 

(A punishment due for our sin:) 
No town so quick burn'd into ashes was turn'd, 

And sooner was built agen. 
Such is the fate of London's estate. 

Sometimes sh' has a sorrowful sup 
Of miseries bowl ; but to quicken her soul. 

For mercy doth hold her up. 

Our ruines did show, five or six years ago, 

Like an object of woe to all eyes that came nigh us: 
Yet now 'tis as gay as a garden in May, 

Guildhall and th' Exchange are in Statu quo prius. 
Our feasts in halls, each company calls. 

To treat 'um as welcome men: 
The Muses, all nine, do begin to drink wine ; 

Apollo doth shine agen. 
True union and peace makes plenty encrease. 

And every trade to spring : 
The city so wall'd, may be properly call'd 

The chamber of Charles, our king.* 

Our princes have been, (as on record is seen), 
Good authors and fautors of love to this place ; 

By many good charters, to strengthen our quarters, 
With divers indulgences, favour, and grace. 

* Catiiera Bcyis was a very ancient term tVn- tlu; city. 


Their love so much to London is such, 

They do, as occasion calls, 
Their freedom partake, for society sake, — 

Kings have been made free of halls ! 
If city and court together consort, 

This nation can never be undone : 
Then let the hall ring with God prosper the king I 

And bless the lord mayor of London! 

Chorus of five voices. 

But for this honour'd Company, whose kindness this day, 
Prepar'd all these triumphs, we have something to say: 
For all their future welfare, we heartily pray 
That the Goldsmiths, the Goldsmiths, 
The Gold and Silver Goldsmiths may. 
With gold and silver plenty, 
And treasures never empty, 
Thrive on 'till the latter day. 



Fkom Jordan's " Triumphs of London," 1675. I have mentioned 
(Pageants, Part I, p. 84,) tliat Ritson has printed this song in his 
collection of " Ancient Songs," bnt I omitted to say that the verses 
there are transposed, the sixth taking the place of the fourth, &c., 
while the two concluding verses are entirely omitted. He speaks 
of " a copy of it, with considerable variations, and some addi- 
tional stanzas in the valuable collection of Major Pearson," 
which was no doubt printed for the use of the ballad-singers, as 
many of Jordan's songs were of a popular character, and much 
sung in his own day. Ritson entitles it " The Town Gallant;" 
iu the pageant it is called " The Epicure ; sung bj' one in the 
habit of a town gallant," and is thus introduced : — " his lordship 
and the guests being all seated, the city musick begin to touch 
their instruments with very artful fingers, and after a lesson being 
played, and their ears as well feasted as their mouths; an acute 
person with a good voice, good humour, and audible utterance, 
(the better to provoke digestion), sings this new droll." I have 
adopted a few of Ritson's readings where they improve the sense. 

Let us drink and be merry, dance, joke and rejoice, 
AVith claret, and sherry, theorbo, and voice ; 
The changeable world to our joy is unjust, 
All treasure's uncertain, then down with your dust ; 
In frolicks dispose your pounds, shillings, and pence, 
For we shall be nothing a hundred years hence. 

We'll kiss and be free with Moll, Betty, and Philly, 
Have oysters and lobsters, and maids by the belly ; 
Fish dinners will make a lass spring like a flea, 
Dame Venus, love's goddess, was born of the sea ; 
With her and with Bacchus we'll tickle the sense, 
For we shall be past it a hundred years hence. 


Your most beautiful bit, that hatb all eyes upon her, 
That her honesty sells for a hogo of honour, [splendor, 
Whose lightness and brightness doth shine in such 
That none but the stars are thought fit to attend her ; 
Though now she be pleasant and sweet to the sense, 
Will be damnably mouldy a hundred years hence. 

Then why should we turmoil in cares and in fears. 
Turn all our tranquillity to sighs and to tears ? 
Let's eat, drink, and play, till the worms do corrupt us, 
'Tis certain that Post mortem nulla voluptas : 

Let's deal with our damsels, that we may from thence 
Have broods to succeed us a hundred years hence. 

Your usurer that in the hundred takes twenty. 
Who wants in his wealth, and doth pine in his plenty, 
Lays up for a season which he ne'er shall see, 
The year of one thousand eight hundred and three ; 
His wit, and his wealth, his law, learning, and sense, 
Shall be turned into nothing a hundred years hence. 

Your chancery-lawyer, who by subtilety thrives. 
In spinning out suits to the length of three lives. 
Such suits which the clients do wear out in slavery, 
Whilstpleader makes conscience a cloak for his knavery. 
May boast of his subtlety in the present tense, 
But non est inventus a hundred years hence. 

Your most Christian Mounsieur, who rants it in riot, 
Not sufiering his more Christian neighbours live quiet; 


Whose numberless legions that to him belongs, 
Consists of more nations than Babel has tongues : 
Though num'rous as dust, in tlespight of defence, 
Shall all lie in ashes a hundred years hence. 

We mind not the counsels of such bloody elves. 
Let us set foot to foot, and be true to ourselves ; 
Our honesty from our good fellowship springs, 
We aim at no selfish preposterous things. 

Wee'll seek no preferment by subtle pretence, 
Since all shall be nothing a hundred years hence. 


During the reign of Charles II, coffee-houses met with such 
favorable patronage that they quickly spread over the metropolis, 
and were the usual meeting places of the roving cavaliers who 
seldom visited homo but to sleep. Edward Hutton, in his " New 
View of London," 1708, vol. i, p. 30.. has given a curious account 
of one of the earliest establishments of the kind: he says, "I 
find it recorded that one James Farr, a barber, who kept the 
coffee-house which is now the Rainbow, by the Inner Temple 
Gate, (one of the first in England), was, in the year 1657, pi'e- 
sented by the Inquest of St. Dunstan's in the West, for making 
and selling a sort of liquor called coffee, as a great nuisance and 
prejudice to the neighbourhood, &c. And who would then have 
thought London would ever have had near three thousand such 
nuisances, and that coffee would have been, (as now), so much 
drank by the best of quality and physicians." The song here 
printed from the same pageant as the preceding one, affords a 
very curious picture of the manners of the times, and the sort 
of conversation then usually met with in a well frequented house 
of the sort, — the "Lloyds" of the seventeenth century. 


You tliat delight in wit and mirth, 

And love to hear such news 
That come from all parts of the earth, 

Turks, Dutch, and Danes, and Jews ; 
I'll send ye to the rendezvouz. 

Where it is smoaking new; 
Go hear it at a coffee-house, 

It cannot but be true. 

There battails and sea-fights are fought. 

And bloudy plots displaid ; 
They know more things than e're was thought. 

Or ever was bewray 'd : 
No money in the minting-house. 

Is half so bright and new ; 
And coming from the Coffec-IIotise, 

It cannot but be true. 

Before the navies fell to work, 

They knew who should be winner ; 

They there can tell ye what the Turk 
Last Sunday hud to dinner. 

AVho last did cut Du Ruiter's* corns, 

* The Dutch admiral who, in June 16fi7, dashed into the 
Downs with a fleet of eighty sail, and many fire-ships, blocked 
up the mouths of the Modway and Thames, destroyed the 
fortihcations at Sheerness, cut away the paltry defences of booms 
and chains drawn across the rivers, and got to Chatham, on the 
one side, and nearly to Gravesend on the other. The king 
Ijaving spent in debiiuchery the money voted by parliament for 
the proper support of the English navy. 


Amongst his jovial crew ; 
Oi' who first gave the devil horns, 
Which cannot but be true. 

A fisherman did boldly tell, 

And strongly did avouch. 
He caught a shole of mackerell, 

They parley'd all in Dutch ; 
And cry'd out Yaw, yaio, yaic, inbie hare, 

And as the draught they drew. 
They stunk for fear that Monk* was there: 

This sounds as if 'twere true. 

There's nothing done in all the world, 

From monarch to the mouse ; 
But every day or night 'tis hurl'd 

Into the coffee-house : 
What Lillyf or what Booker^ cou'd 

By art not bring about, 

* General Monk and Prince Rupert were at this time com- 
manders of the English fleet. 

f Lilly was the celebrated astrologer of the protectorate, who 
earned great fame at that time by predicting, in June 1645, "if 
now we fight, a victory stealeth upon us:" a lucky guess, signally 
verified in the king's defeat at Naseby. Lilly thenceforth always 
saw the stars favourable to the Puritans. 

{ Tliis man was originally a fishing-tackle maker in Tower 
Street, during the I'eign of Charles I, but turning enthusiast, he 
went about prognosticating " the downfall of the King and 
Popery ;" and as he and his predictions were all on the popular 
side, he became a great man with the superstitious " godly 
brethren" of that day. 


At coffee-house you'll find a brood, 
Can quickly find it out. 

They know who shall in times to come, 

Be either made or undone, 
From great St. Peter's-street in Rome, 

To Turnbal-street* in London. 
And likewise tell at Clerkenwell, 

What whore hath greatest gain ; 
And in that place what brazen-face 

Doth wear a golden chain. 

They know all that is good or hurt. 

To damn ye or to save ye ; 
There is the colledge and the court, 

The country, camp, and navy. 
So great an university, 

I think there ne'r was any; 
In which you may a scholar be. 

For spending of a penny. 

Here men do talk of every thing, 
With large and liberal lungs, 

* Turnbal, or TurnbuU-street as it is still called, had been for 
a century previous of infamous repute. In Beaumo'it and Flet- 
cher's play, " The Knight of the Burning Pestle," one of the 
ladies who is iindergoing penance at the barber's, has her 
character sufficiently pointed out to the audience, in her declara- 
tion that she had been " stolen from her friends in Turnbal 


Like women at a gossiping, 

With double tire of tongues, 
They'll give a bi'oadside presently, 

'Soon as you are in view: 
With stories that you'll wonder at, 

Which they will swear are true. 

You shall know there what fashions are, 

How perriwiggs are curl'd ; 
And for a penny you shall hear 

All novels in the world ; 
Both old and young, and great and small, 

And rich and poor you'l see ; 
Therefore let's to the coffee all, 

Come all away with me. 


Bethlehem Hospital, or as it is more usually called, Bedlam, took 
tliat name from the oi'iginal direction of its founder, Simon Fitz- 
Mary, (sheriff of London in 1246), who desired that in token 
of subjection and reverence, one mark sterling should be paid 
yearly at Easter to the bishop of Bethlehem or his nuncio. The 
earliest notice of lunatics received there is in 1403, when the 
house afforded shelter to six of them, and three sick persons. 
It was purchased by the city in 1546. In 1644, forty-four 
lunatics wei-e kept there, but the revenues did not defray one- 
third of the expenditure ; the house was afterwards enlarged at 
the expense of the city, who also paid for its maintenance. The 
bmlding commemorated by this song was commenced in 1675, 
and completed in the year following, when Jordan composed it to 
be sung in the Guildhall on Lord Mayor's day, and it is printed 


in his pageant for Sir Thomas Davies's mayoralty, 1G7G, entitled 
" London's Triiimplis." The Lord Mayor is still Governor of 
this Hospital. 

This is a structure fair, 

Royally raised ; 
The pious founders are 
Much to be praised, 

That in such times of need. 
When madness doth exceed, 
Do build this house of bread, 
Noble New Bedlam. 

'Tis beautiful and large 

In constitution ; 
Deserves a liberal charge 
Of contribution. 

If I may reach so high 
To sing a prophecy, 
Their names shall never dye 
That built New Bedlam. 

Methinks the Lawyers may 

Consult together. 
And contribute, for they 
Send most men thither ; 

They put 'em to much pain, 
With words that cramp the brain, 
'Till Bedlam's fdl'd with plain- 
tiff and defendant. 


Quacking pliysicians should 

Give money freely ; 
They maculate men's blood 
And make them seely ; 

With hydrargyrum pills, 
Their reasons and their wills 
They ruine, and this fills 
Most part of Bedlam. 

So good a work as this 
Cannot want actors ; 
But i'll no more insist 
On benefactors, 

But hint such as I see 
Hypochondriack bee. 
That are in some degree 
Fit for New Bedlam. 

That amorous soul that is 

In love a quaker. 
And doth adore a miss 
More than his Maker, 

Decks her in silk and furr, 
Then turns idolater, 
Kneels down and worships her, 
He's fit for Bedlam. 

The young man that has got 

A golden talent ; 
And hath a brain-sick plot 


To seem a gallant ; 

That ricbly is array 'd, 
Spends land, and shop, and trade, 
To be a Hector made. 
Is fit for Bedlam. 

The city -lad that sings, 

Rhimes, drolls, and dances, 
And all his business flings 
Away for fancies ; 

He that lets his angels fly, 
'Till he's not worth one peny, 
To study poetry. 
Is fit for Bedlam. 

Whilst some with brandy burn 

Their guts with drinking ; 
Philosophers do turn 

Their heads with thinking ; 
He who is such a one 
As studies for the stone, 
'Tin's brains and his money's gone, 
Prepares for Bedlam. 

That churl who gold liath won, 

And dares not use it, 
But hath a squandering sou 
Doth game and lose it, 

His brains do greatly err: 
He that with water cleer 
AVould fill a colander, 
Must do't in Bedlam. 


He that with an estate 
Weds a poor beaiitj, 
A\^ho to disdain and hate, 
Turns love and duty ; 

It dotli liis reason daunt, 
He has a bargain on't, 
Worse tlian the elephant, 
And's fit for Bedlam. 

1 could tell many more, 
(I have enroll'd 'em), 
Shotdd I declare my store. 
As I have told 'em ; 

With mortar, brick, and stone, 
Coidd they their building run, 
From thence to Islington, 
'Twould never hold 'em. 


From Jordan's "London's Triumphs," 1G77, where it is printed 
without a title. It wns sung- in Guildhall, after dinner, to the tune 
of " Tom-a- Bedlam," by " one of the city musicians, being attired 
like a New-Bedlamite, with apt action, and audible voice." It 
gives a curious detail of the many forms of belief which distracted 
the religionists of the Cromwellian age ; Bishop Corbet had pre- 
viously written a song which may be found in Percy's "He- 
liques," in exactly the same measure as this by Jordan ; it is 
called " The Distracted Puritan," but it deals with the madness 
of that class only, and Jordan may, in the present effusion, have 
carried out a wish to enlarge the idea of the worthy bishop, if 
not to rival him. 

r 2 


I AM the wolul'st madman, 

That e'er came near your knowledge ; 

I thrice have in 

New Prison been, 
And twice in Bedlam Colledge : 
In hunger, cold, and darkness, 
I was a very sad man. 

But I will show, 

And tell you how 
I first became a madman: 
Then give me room, give me breath, give me hearing, 
My name is Captain Pigeon, 

When English-men 

Fell out, I then 
Did alter my Religion. 

A Protestant I first was 

The Church is my recorder, 

And then I did, 

(As I was bid). 
Love decency and order: 
The Common Prayer and organ, 
The surplice, copes, and rotchcts, 

1 then upheld, 

'Till I was fill'd 
"With Presbyterian crotchets. 
Then did I turn from the right to the left side, 
Amongst a flock of widgeons, 

I was so bad, 

I fell stark mad, 
With changing of religions. 


I turn'd a Presbyterian, 

And did maintain much foppery ; 

The devil and we 

Did all agree 
To fight and pull down Popery. 
We beat up drums for nothing, 
The cause looked like a riddle, 

Two fools were stout, 

And did fall out 
Who should lie in the middle. 
Then did I turn from the right to the left side, 
AVith a troop of widgeons, 

Who filled my brains 

With pangs and pains, 
Begot by new religions. 

Next I tui'n'd Anabaptist, 
And prayed by the spirit; 

To preach and print. 
Make mouths and squint, 
We thought was mighty merit. 
We slighted steeple houses,* 
Stables we met together in, 
With yea and nay 
AV'e did betray 
Our Presbyterian brethren. 
Then presently was the League and the Cov'nant, 
(Which destroy'd allegiance), 

* The name scornfully bestowed on churches by these men. 


Quite tuinbrd down 
With king and crown. 
To let in more religions. 

We pulled down all the crosses, 

And gained the people's curses. 
They were so pin'd 
They could not find 

A cross left in their purses.* 
We broke all painted w'indows, 

In churches and in chappels, 
We did no good, 
But shed the blood, 

Of Lucas, Lisles, and Capels.f 
Then did we cry to the right, to the left, 

We'll muster up our legions ; 
Then I was Koax't, 
And finely fox't, 

With many mad religions. 

Then 1 became a Brownist,| 
And was a saint perfidious, 

* The coinage of England hail gfiieruUy a large cross upon 
the reverse ; it began to be discontinued, at times, in the reign oT 
Charles I, and was entirely left off during the Commonwealth. 

"f Sir Charles Lucas and Sir George Lisle were shot by Fair- 
fax, at Colchester, in 1648. Lord Capol was beheaded with the 
Duke of Hamilton, and the Earl of nojland, in Palace-yard, 
Westminster, ISfurch 9th, 1049. 

X The Brownists, or Separatists, reciived their name from 
Robert Brown, who, toward the middle of Elizabeth's reign, was 


We preacli'd, we pray'd, 
Poor men betray'd, 

And this we call'd religious. 
In pulpits we put red-coates, 

To make our faction prouder, 
They filled our eares 
With bandoliers, 

Pikes, pistols, guns, and powder. 
Then did we cry to the right, to the left, 

We plunder'd pigs and pigeons; 
And thus did I 
At length comply 

With all sorts of religions. 

This sect I soon deserted. 

And quickly made an end on't. 

And like an elf 

I made myself 
A plotting Indepcndant.* 
No government they owned, 
As I did understand 'em, 

For they confest 

It pleas'd 'em best 
To reign and rule at random. 

a preacher in the diocese of Norwich : he was descended from a 
good family, and is said to have been a near relation of Lord 
Burghley. They argued for a total separation from the Church 
of England, I'enouncing all communion with her, not only in the 
prayers and ceremonies, but in hearing the word, and the sacra- 

* This class of men \vcre original] v Brownists. 


Faces about to tlie lel't, to the riglit, 

Wee'll pull down all the regions, 
From rocks and shelves 
We'll steer our selves, 
And be of all religions. 

The next I was a Seeker,* 

Then I grew something blinder, 

For in my youth 

I lost the Truth, 
And knew not where to find her. 
Then I turned Antinomian,f 
When I from that was driven, 

A Leveller^ 

I did prefer, 
To make my brains lie even. 
But still I cry'd, from the right to the left, 
Let's face about, ye widgeons; 

For I protest 

This is the best 
Of all my new religions. 

* A sect that obtained its name IVoin tlio dfcluiatinn of con- 
stantly " seeking the Lord," made by its followers. Tiiey were 
sometimes termed Vanisls, after the yonnger Sir Harry Vane, 
who was of this persuasion, and, like them all, a great mj-stic. 

■{■ A sect who taught an eijiiality of persons, and justifying 
faith, or free grace, entirely independent of works. 

X The Levellers were the bitterest opponents of Charles I, or 
Aliab, as they termed him, and were for " no king but King 
Jesus ;" they were of most ungovernable turbuk'nce in the early 
part of the civil wars. 


We all had equal lordships, 
No power we did pray to. 

Fifth INIonarchy* 

Did then pass by, 
And I mnst do as they do. 
Tills made ray judgement stagger, 
My brain began to burn too, 

I grew amaz'd, 

I star'd and gaz'd. 
And knew not what to turn to. 
Vet still I cry'd, from the right to the left, 
Let's face about, ye widgeons, 

rie not take in 

Till I have bin 
A man of all religions. 

I weary was of this, too. 

And needs must be a Shaker,! 
Which made me sad. 
Then I ran mad, 
And so became a Quaker. 
I changed to an Arminian, 

And would have been a Papist, 
But having not 
Much learning got, 

* The Fifth-Monai-chy men were violent oppositionists, and 
believed in an approaching millennium, (the fifth great pi'ophetic 
monarchy of Scriptui'e — see Dan. vii. 13, Zech. i. &c.) when Christ 
VFOidd reign for a thousand years, with the saints for his ministers. 

t A class of fanatics who excited themselves at all their meet- 
ings until they shook and leaped in their prayers. 


I last of all turn'd Atheist. 
Thus (lid I fly from the right to the left, 
And they will prove but widgeons, 

Who in their youth 

Let go the truth, 
And turn to new religions. 


Froji Jordan's " London's Gloi'y, or the Lord Maj'or's Show," 
1680. It is sung in the last pageant, " The Palace of Pleasure," 
and is a curious specimen of the songs composed expressly iu 
praise of the company to whom the mayor belonged, and who 
were on these occasions selected for unusual laudation ; the city 
poets regularly insisting on their superiority over all others. This 
praise was, however, as regularly transferred to another company 
in the year following. 

Ok all the professions that ever were nam'd, 
The taylor's, though slighted, is much to be fani'd : 
For various invention, and antiquity, 
No trade with the tayler's compared may be : 
For warmth, and distinction, and fashion he dotli 
Provide for both sexes, with silk, stuff, and cloth. 
Then do not disdain him, or slight him, or flout him. 
Since, (if well consider'd), you can't live without him. 
But let all due praises, (that can be), be made. 
To honour and dignifie the tayler's trade. 

When jVdaiii and Kve out of Eden were luuTd, 
Tlicy wore at that time king and <|uecn of the world ; 


Yet this royal couple were forced to play 
The taylers, and put themselves in green aray : 
For modesty, and for necessity's sake, 
They had figs for the belly, and leaves for the back ; 
And afterward clothing of sheep-skins they made, 
Then judge if a tayler was not the first trade. 
The oldest profession, and they are but raylers, 
Who scoff and deride men that be merchant- taylers. 

Some say that the shomaker's trade doth out-go him, 
But I am persuaded it is much below him ; 
When he's at the bottom, the tayler's o' th' top. 
When the shomaker kneels, the stout tayler stands up, 
Embracing and lacing his madam so fair, 
And decking her body with robes debonair: 
But only this fault I do find with liis trade. 
Of late there's small diff 'rence 'twixt mistress and maid. 
And yet, for all that, I do count them but raylers, 
Who shall undervalue the brave merchant-taylers. 

If princes and people stark naked should go, 
Who could their gradations of dignity know ? 
It would pretty modest fair virgins perplex, 
'Cause nakedness shows the distinction of sex. 
And therefore the taylor, to fortifie nature, 
By art, in formalities, covers the creature : 
To every person he gives a due dress. 
Which doth in fit order their callings express. 
Then let all your praises be properly made. 
To commend and dignifie the taylers trade. 


With various pei'sons in habits he deals, 
And with outward shapes, inward secrets conceals: 
Distortions of body, and foulness of mind. 
That under good clothing you can't quickly lind : 
A miss in high habit hath often been seen. 
Though as rank as a goat, yet as rich as a queen ; 
Such power hath apparel that covers the skin, 
All embroyder'd without, and corrupted within. 
This falshood doth not in the tayler's art lurk, 
But in the foul members that set him to work. 

Kings, princes, dukes, marquesses, earls, viscounts, 

Have royal apparel from tayler's shop-boards ; 
Grave bishopsand judges, knights, gentlemen, yeomen. 
With all the degi-ees of men, children, and women; 
All sorts and distinctions of land-men and sailors. 
Are rob'd, gown'd, and coated, and tackled by taylers. 
In gallant apparel your martial-man thunders, 
Good clothes and good courage, too, daily do wonders. 
He that hath poor habit, and is out of fashion, 
Is slighted, and seldom obtains estimation. 

Nine kings of the brave merchant-taylers are free, 
As twenty-two princes and dukes also be ; 
Twenty-seven bishops, right reverend and good. 
And forty-seven earls are of this brotherhood ; 
With seventy-seven bold barons and lords, 
As may be produc'd from our ancient records. 


Then judge if the dignify 'd taylei' have not 

Cause for estimation, ne're to be forgot. 

Since none of good fashion, but ranters and raylcrs, 
Will wrong the right worshipful, the merchant- 


From the same pageant as the preceding. This is a cnrious 
specimen of what passed for propriety of opinion at this unsettled 
period. Hostility to the Catholics is strongly urged, and the 
" unanimity" at " the late election" insisted on, although Sir 
Patience Ward, the mayor, from his constant opposition to the en- 
croachments of the court party, was exceedingly unpopular with 
the king, who managed in the following year, in opposition to 
the citizens, to get Sir John Moore into the office of maj^or, who 
was a tool in the hands of the court, and entirely hetrayed the 
city. After the sheriffs, (Papillon and Dubois), had been elected 
in the usual manner, Moore, at the request of the king, set them 
aside, and nominated others, by drinking to them, — an obsolete 
custom then done away with, they being always elected by the 
common hall. A poll being demanded, they were again returned 
by an immense majority ; the mayor then declared the election 
irregular and riotous, Chief- Justice North nnd the Council 
backed him, and Dudley North, (brother to the Chief-Justice), 
and Rich, both courtiers, were illegally thrust into their places. 
Actions at law were commenced against Pilkington, the late sherifi^ 
by way of revenge, and he was taxed with accusing the Duke of 
York with burning London in 16G6 ; he was sentenced to pay 
£100,000 damages, by the king's packed jury, under the surveil- 
lance of his new-formed sherifts, and Sir George Jefferys, now 
Recorder of London and rapidly rising in favour. Sir Patience 
Ward, who did not swear as was wished, was prosecuted with 
peculiar malevolence, found guilty of perjury, and sentenced to 
the pillory. Moore was rewarded by having " an honourable 
addition" granted to his coat-of-arms, " for his great and eminent 
services to the crown ;" which was " the lion of England upon 


a canton." Never was the British lion more degrarled than when 
placed by a dissohite and unprincipled king upon the arms of 
a man who, h;iving sworn to protect the citizens' rights as their 
chief magistrate, betrayed their interests, and paved the way for 
Charles to deprive them of their charter. 

What is the cruel cause 

Of cur dissention, 
That holy and humane laws 

Yield no prevention ; 
That our poor land hath been 

Pull'd all to pieces ; 
And still our sorrows keen 

Daily increases ? 
1^ you would know for wjiat, 
Reason will tell you that 
'Tis because we do not 

Love one another. 

Such a command as this 

All power convinces ; 
'Twas made by him that is 

The prince of princes: 
The power of love is of 

A fruitfull nature, 
"When it drops from above 

Into the creature ; 
It doth corroborate 
And fortify a state. 
Then, before 'tis too late, 

Love one another. 


Daily dissentions rise, 

Brother 'gainst brother : 
Son against father flyes, 

Daughter 'gainst mother. 
Strange contrarieties 

Do rule men's reason : 
Whilst England's enemies 

Are hatching treason. 
And driving on that plot, — 
(They think we have forgot,) 
'Cause they see we do not 

Love one another. 

If concord be the way 

To peace and plenty. 
Discord must needs destroy. 

And make all empty. 
Houses and kingdoms that 

Are so divided, 
Are in a desperate state, — 

Grossly misguided. 
The dangers of our land 
We never can withstand 
'Till we're united, and 

Love one another. 

Let us not mingle our 

Faith with our fancies ; 
And leave the substance for 

Small circumstances. 



Let love and reason work 
In us, and on us ; 

Serpents in secret lurk 

To over run us. 

Their stinging pens are free 

To raise conspiracie, 

Wliicli will be foil'd if we 

Love one another. 

If we do stir up hate 

Against our brother, 
We prove like fire-brands that 

Burn out each other ; 
Clyents whom lawyers light, 

Till they unstate 'em, 
Or Dutch and English fight. 

When French laugh at 'cm. 
In such conditions are 
Men that love law and war. 
And such are those that ne're 

Love one another. 

In what a doubtful state 

Is all our nation :• 
Without us, Papal hate. 

Within us, passion : 
And causeless prejudice 

Doth still possess us; 
'Tis feared our enemies 

Will nuudi oppress us. 


■ We shall in snares be caught 
By this damn'd Popish plot, 
If we in time do not 

Love one another, 

Let us with hearts and hands, 

Joyn all our forces 
Against the Romish bands. 

Their foot and horses; 
For if they get the best, 

And overpower us. 
We shall ne're live at rest, 

They will devour us ; 
We must in sad restraints. 
Be plung'd in woes and wants; 
Then let true Protestants 

Love one another. 

Our unanimity 

I' th' late election, 
Shew'd that we well agree 

In our affection ; 
Where all men did consent, 

Without resistance, 
'Twas a good argument 

Of Gods assistance. 
When men so well agree. 
And so concordant be, 
'Tis a plain sign that we 

Love one another. 



From the same pageant as the previous song. Jordan tells us 
that the preceding one " being ended, they handle their instru- 
ments again, and play divers new ayrcs, which having done, 
three or four habit themselves according to the humour of the 
song, and one of them chanteth forth another song in the same 
tune with that last sung." The first verso alludes to the pre- 
tended Popish plot of the infamous Titus Oatcs, which set the 
nation at that time in a ferment. 

Though our plot be betray'd, 

Let us pursue it, 
We need not be dismay'd, 

We will renew it ; 
Therefore, let us implore 

Those saints above us, 
Who have done so before. 

And, therefore, love us. 
Joyntly, then, wee'l agree 
To sing a Litany,* 
And let the burden be 
Ora pro nobis. 

* Parodies on the Litany were, at this period, far from 
uncommon. Scarcely any collection of political poems or songs 
is without several. In Thompson's " Collection of one hundred 
and eighty Loyal Songs, all written since 1678," is printed "a 
Litany from Geneva," the ninth verse containing in its last linn 
an allusion to the last of the city laureates, in the words: — 

" from brawn}' Settle's poem in prose, 

Libera uos domine." 

Hone's celebrated defence on his three trials in Guildhall for a 
similar parody, may be consulted with advantage on the earlier 


You that have been, as we, 

Engaged in dangers, 
Listen to us that be 

Heretick-rangers : 
Do you our suit prefer. 

And send unto us, 
Least Doctor Provender 

Do quite undo us. 
You that kings undertake 
To kill, for conscience sake, 
Clement and Raviliac,* 
Ora pro nobis. 

You that were two of those 

Excellent members, 
Who did assist in the 

Plot of November's ; 

and later history of the same practice. In his book on " Ancient 
Mysteries," he hints that the celebration of lord mayor's day by a 
mock Litany on the same spot, might have been among the ser- 
viceable precedents cited to the juries, had he been then aware 
of the existence of the one here reprinted. 

* The friar Jacques Clement murdered Henry III of France, 
because ho imagined that he favoured the Protestant party ; pre- 
tending business of importance, he gained admission to the king, 
and while he examined the letters he brought him, stabbed him in 
the bowels, a wound of which the king died on the following- 
day, the 2nd of August, 1589. Francis Kavaillac, who had been 
a schoolmaster, murdered the succeeding sovereign, Henry IV, 
from the same motive, on the 14th May, 1610, in his coach, as he 
passed through the streets of Paris : his ideas having been 
strengthened by the infamous preachers of the League, who 
invariably justified the act of Clement. 



What you did leave undone, 

That we may do it ; 
Grant us your orison, 

And prompt us to it. 
Ye that like hooded hawks, 
Wrought in dark lanthorn walks, 
Digby* and Guido-Vaux, 
Ora pro nobis. 

Great Cataline, do thou 

Aid and assist us ; 
That in what we shall do 

None may resist us : 
Brutus and Cassius, 

Inspire us in season, 
And qualify us with 

Murder and treason. 
You that have plotted more 
Than men have done before, 
Gusman and Gundemore,f 
Ora pro nobis. 

* Sir Everard Digby can only claim the dishonourable dis- 
tinction of a mention with Guido Fawkcs, to the neglect of such 
men as Catesby, from the circumstance of the leading position 
his wealth and connections enabled him to take in this celebrated 
conspiracy. A curious relic of the most courageous of the band 
exists in the Bodleian picture gallery ; it is the lanthorn found 
upon Guido Fawkcs when he was discovered in the vaults be- 
neath the Houses of Parliament. 

+ Count Gondomar was ambassador from Spain to the court of 
liing James I. He was greatly desirous of perfecting the pro- 
posed marriage of Prince Charles with the Infanta of Spain, and 


Woolsey, that liv'd i' tli' reign 

Of old King Harry ; 
And you o' tli' flaming train 

To Phil, and Mary, 
Teach us, that we with sticks, 

Fire-brand, and fuel, 
May burn all hereticks, 

And prove as cruel. 
You that consum'd by fire 
Ridley and Latimer, 
Bonner and Gardiner, 
Ora pro nobis. 

You that with arguments 

Rais'd several discontents, 

As 'tis related : 
You that made subjects 

Forsake their obedience, 

his intrigues made him exceedingly unpopular in England. He 
was mainly instrumental in bringing Raleigh to the block, 
and obtained great ascendency over that weak-minded sovereign, 
King James I, by flattering his weaknesses, until, as he boasted 
to the Spanish court, " he thought more of their interests than 
of those of his own family." James had an eager desire to 
parade his learning, and Gondomar was a good Latin scholar, 
and, as one means of ingratiating himself with the king, used to 
talk bad Latin in his presence, that he might have the pleasure 
of publicly correcting him, Gondomar loudly protesting he spoke 
it on the authority of most learned teachers, " He was," savs 
Hume, "a man whose flattery was the more artful, because 
covered with the appearance of frankness and sincerity ; whose 
politics were the more dangerous, because disguised under the 
masque of mirth and pleasantry," 


And taught them to abhor 

Oaths of allegiance : 
Vou that coiihl souls trap})anj 
With disputes off and on, 
Parsons and Campion,* 

Ora pro nobis. 

You Irish champions, that 

In warlike manner. 
Against the Church and State 

Advanc'd your banner ; 
Kaise up our spirits, we 

May be courageous ; 
England's o'erthrow will be 

Much advantageous : 
Fitz-Geraldf and Tyrone,;]: 

* Executed with other llomish priests during the reign of 
Elizabeth, for a pretended conspiracy against her life ; the writing 
and distributing of works favourable to the Church of Ivonie was 
uU that could be clearly proved against them. 

t The rebellion of Lord Thomas Fitzgerald occurred during 
the reign of llein'y VIII, in the year 1.533, upon a belief that 
liis father, the Earl of Kildare and lord deputy of Ireland, who 
hail been summoned to England, had been executed in the Tower 
for treason, a charge of that criu)e having been made against 
him by his enemies the Butlers. Lord Thomas and his Kve 
uncles had possession of the six strongest castles in Ireland, and 
their insurrection became most formidable ; after defeating the 
English forces he was ultimately obliged to surrender to them 
on their promise of a free pardon. "The five brethren," his 
uncles, were treacherously seized at a bancjuet, and after a long 
and cruel imprisoimient in the Tower of London, they were all 
l)eheaded with their nephew, the young l-'arl, in Eibruary LOST. 

X The Ivirl of Tyrone headed the Irisli rebellion in the latter 
years of the reign of Elizabeth, in which he was much assisted 


To you we cry, O Lone ! 
Gregory and Pope Joan, 

Ora pro nobis. 

Hubert, whose fatal brand 

First fir'd the city,* 
By hereticks' command, 

Dy'd without pity : 
Coleman, f that great statist. 

Whose brains were working. 

by the Spanish king, in revenge for the assistance that queen 
had given to the States of Holhtnd, who had revolted from their 
allegiance to him in the early part of her reign. Tyrone was 
finally defeated on Christmas Eve, 1601, when he advanced 
against the English army, under Lord Mountjoy, at Kinsale, 
with a force of 6000 native Irish, and 400 foi'cigners, to the 
assistance of Don Juan D'Aguilar, who was in that town with 
4000 Spanish troops. This victory, and the ravages of famine, 
brought the Irish to extremities, and Tyrone, after flying from 
place to jilace, surrendered to Mountjoy at the end of 1602, on 
a promise of life and lands, which the queen reluctantly obeyed. 
During the reign of James I, he was suspected of engaging in a 
new rebellion, and fled into Spain, leaving his enormous posses- 
sions as a forfeiture to the crown. 

* This Hubert was a Frenchman, who was notoriously insane, 
and he accused himself of having, with two others, set fire to the 
first house burnt in the great fire of 1666. There were none to 
prosecute or accuse him, and his confession was so disjointed, and 
so clearly betrayed the state of his intellects, that the chief-jus- 
tice told the king he could not believe him guilty. He was 
evidently a poor distracted wretch, weary of his life, and anxious 
to part with it in this way. Yet the jury found him guilty, and 
the king and judges, notwithstanding their conviction, allowed 
him to be executed. 

+ Coleman was the secretary and confidential agent of the 
Duke of York, afterwards King James II, and was accused in 


Whilst Jesuit and priest 

In holes lay lurking ; 
This plot to pass to Ijring, 
Stout Grove and Pickering,* 
Employed to kill the king, 

Ora pro nobis. 

You that in bloody ways 

Have lately trod free, 
Who set an end to th' days 

Of justice Godfrey,! 
Though a prais'd magistrate. 

He was against us. 
And did deserve our hate, 

And much incens'd us: 

1678, by the infamous Titus Oates, as the chief conspirator in 
the famous Popish Plot for the destruction of Charles 11, and the 
introduction of the Komish religion. It was proved from his own 
letters, (perhaps to the surprise of Oates), that he had applied 
both to the Pope and others for money and assistance in " the 
utter ruin of the Protestant Party," and he was executed as a 

* These two were the men who, according to Oates and Bed- 
loe, were employed by the Popish party to shoot Charles II. 
Upon the perjured and contradictory evidence of these two 
scoundrels they were found guilty and executed. They died pro- 
fessing their innocence, but the received opinion about Jesuitism 
prevented alike an}' belief, and any pity. 

t Sir Edmundbury Godfrey, who had taken the depositions 
on the Popish plot, and excited himself greatly in the matter. 
He was found murdered immediately afterwards, a circumstance 
that inflamed the whole nation, and gave the greatest strengtli 
to Oates's perjuries. 


Green, Bury, Hill,* that dy'd, 
Altliougli for murther try'd, 
By us y'are sanctify'd. 

Ora pro nobis. 

Ireland and Whitebread,f too, 

Harcourt and Turner,| 
For whom there is in woe 

Many a close mourner ; 

* These three men, who were employed about the Queen's 
Chapel at Somerset House, (from whence Sir Edmundbury 
Godfrey had disappeared), were hung at Tyburn for his murder, 
upon the evidence of one Prance, a Catholic Silversmith, who 
had, it appears, been tortured to confess, and had accused these 
unfortunate men to free himself from prison, and save his life. 
Primrose Hill, near London, close to which the body of Godfrey 
was found, was at this time re-named " Greenberry Hill," from 
the names of the three supposed murderers. The smaller hill 
beside it, now formed into a reservoir, was previous to that 
change, called by the lower classes, " bloody hill," probably in 
reference to the same event. 

t Both these men were accused by Titus Gates as the prime 
movers of the Popish plot to'assassinate King Charles IL Ireland 
was a Catholic priest, and Grove and Pickering, who were to do 
the murder, acted under the dii-ection of him and the others, it 
was said. Ireland was tried by Lord Chief- Justice Scroggs at the 
Old Bailey, December 17th, 1678, and was executed at Tyburn 
on the 2nd of January following. Whitbread, styled in his trial 
" Thomas White, alias Whitbread, Provincial of the Jesuits in 
England," was tried on the 13th of June, 1679, and was executed 
at Tyburn on the 20th of the same month. 

J William Harcourt and Anthony Turner were tried with 
Whitbread for participation in the Popish plot, and executed on 
the same day with him. Harcourt was termed by Gates the 
popish " rector of London." Tui-ner was also a priest. 


Fenwick and Gaven,* and 

Langliorn the learned, | 
That plotted hand in hand, 
'Till 'twas discerned ; 
Who by the laws of late, 
And heretical hate, 
Did all submit to fate, 

Ora pro nobis. 


This is anothei- specimen of a trade • so?ig ; it occurs in Jordan's 
"London's Jo}'," for Sir John Moore of the Grocers' Company, 
who was mayor in 1681. It was sung in the last pageant that 
day exhibited, " an Indian Garden of Spices," emblematic of their 
trade ; — " on this stage are several planters, tumblers, dancers 
and vaulters, all blacks, men and women, who are supposed to be 
l)rought over by the Governess, (Fructifera), to celebrate the 
day, and to delight his lordship with their ridiculous rusticity, 
and mimical motion ; one of which crew having a song composed 
for the purpose, being endued with a melodious voice, doth in a 
proper posture extend his jawes, and chanteth out this madrigal 
to u pleasant tune." 

* John Fenwick is called in the state trials "Procurator for 
the Jesuits in England." John Gavan, alias Gawen, was a 
priest, and these two men were also sacrificed to the perjury of 
Oates, on the same day as the others, and for the same pretended 
plot to murder Charles, and establish Popery. 

+ Ilichard Langhorn was a lawyer of the Temple, and, accord- 
in" to Oates, was employed as solicitor for the Jesuits, and in 
connexion with the enemies of the state and religion, both in 
Spain and St. Omer's. He was tried on the lUh of .June, 1079, 
and executed at Tyburn on the 14th of the following July. 


We are jolly planters who live in the East, 

And furnish the world with delights when they feast; 

For by our endeavours this country presumes 

To fit them with physic, food, gold, and perfumes. 

Our trading is whirl'd 

All over the world. 
In vast voyages on the ocean so curl'd: [know 

France, Spain, Holland, England, have sent men to 
Where jewels are found, and how spices do grow; 
Where voyagers with a small stock have been made, 
By the wealthy returns of an East India trade. 

From torments or troubles of body or mind. 
Your bonny brisk planters are free as the wind; 
We eat Avell to labour, and labour to eat, 
Our planting doth get us both stomach and meat. 

There's not better physic 

To vanquish the phthisic, 
And when we're at leisure our voices are music; 
And now we are come with a brisk drolling ditty. 
To honour my lord; and to humour the city. 
We sing, dance, and trip it, as frolick as ranters; 
Such are the sweet lives of your bonny brave planters. 

Our weighty endeavours have drams of delight. 
We slave it all day, but we sleep well at night; 
Let us but obtain a kind hour to be merry, 
Our digging and delving will ne'er make us weury. 

And when we do prate 

In reasons of state. 


What's wanting in wit will be made up in weight; 
They'll currently pass I do simply suppose, 
At them no wise man will take pepper i' th' nose. 
No vaunters, or flawnters, or canters, or ranters, 
Do lead such a life as the bonny brave planters. 

Of cinnamon, nutmegs, of mace, and of cloves, 

"VVe have so much plenty they grow in whole groves; 

Which yield such a savour, when Sol's beams do bless 

That 'tis a sweet kind of contentment to dress 'em. 

Our sugars and gums, 

Our spices and plums, 
Are better than battels of bullets and drums. 
From wars and battalias we have such release. 
We lie down in quiet and rise up in peace; 
We sing it, and dance it, and jig it, and skip it. 
Whilst our Indian lasses do gingerly trip it. 

Our gracious good governess hath brought us over 
To England and London, that we may discover 
The generous triumphs that this year doth wait 
To honour the day of their wise magistrate, 

A merchant of fame, 

Let's love him for shame; 
For moor is our nature, and Moor is his name; 
They feast him with dainties, in peace let him reign, 
The more is his honour, tlie more is our gain. 
God prosper the king and enthrone him with bliss. 
And bless the lord mayor who his lieutenant is. 


No ranters, or vaunters, or chaunters, or Haunters, 
Doth lead sucli a life as the bonny boon planters. 


Printed at the end of Settle's " Triumphs of London, prepared 
for the entertainment of the Right Honourable Sir Thomas 
Lane," 1694. His lordship was one of the Cloth workers Company, 
and this trade-song may be taken as a favourable specimen of 
its class. 

Come all the nine sisters, that fill the great quire. 
For here's a rich theme must the Muses inspire. 

The Clothworkers' glory. 

So fair lies before ye; 
So famous and antient their honour begun. 
When Adam first delv'd and our mother Eve spun. 

Nor the gold, nor the pearl old England shall lack, 
You send out your cloth, and the Indies come back. 

On your fair foundation 

The wealth of the nation, 
Our wool and our web, the supporters of crowns, 
'Tis wooll-sacks found bridges, and fleeces build towns. 

Whilst thro' twelve starry signs, as Astronomers say. 
To circle the year, drives the great god of day. 

Thro' Aries and Taurus, 

Triumphant and glorious. 
Whilst the ram in the heavens does so splendid appear, 
'Tis the Clothworkers' crest begins the fair year. 


Two griffons of gold, your supporters so fair, 
These compounds of lyon and eagle wait there. 

The Ijon, 'tis true, sirs, 

In homage to you, sirs, 
As lord of the land, and the eagle of the ayr, 
To the Clothworkers glory their fealty bear. 

The thistle, the Clothworkers servant so kind, 

Long glitt'ring with gold in their scutcheon has sinned ; 

The thistle, 'tis true, sirs, 

To give her her due, sirs, 
With the fair English rose, both of royal renown, 
To the Clothworkers honour, the thistle and crown. 

Since fortune's fleet wheel, and the great book of doom, 
With life but a thread is the work of the loom, 

The Fates, those dire sisters, 

Our destiny twisters; 
'Tis clothworking all. For living or dead, 
'Tis he's only blest that spins a fair thread. 



From Elkanah Settle's "Triumphs of London,' for Sir Samuel 
Dashwood, of the Vintners' Compan}', mayor in 1702. Queen 
Anne dined in the Guildhall on this occasion, " with Prince 
George of Denmark, and the highest nobility of the kingdom." 
The song here printed occurs at the end of the descriptive pam- 
phlet, and was sung in the Hall. No other pageant was ever pub- 
licly performed : that written for 1708 was not exhibited, owing 
to the death of Prince George of Denmark the day before. For 
that pageant no songs were written, so that this is the last song 
of the last city poet, and a better specimen than usual of his 

Come, come, let us drink the vintners' good health, 
'Tis the cask, not the coffer, that holds the true wealth ; 
If to founders of blessings we pyramids raise. 
The bowl, next the sceptre, deserves the best praise. 
Then, next to the queen, let the vintners' fame shine. 
She gives us good laws, and they fill us good wine. 

Columbus and Cortez their sails they uufurl'd. 

To discover the mines of an Indian world, 

To find beds of gold so far they could roam : 

Fools I fools! — when the wealth of the world lay at 

The grape, the true treasure, much nearer it grew. 
One Isle of Canary's worth all the Peru. 


Let misers in garrets hide up their gay store, 
And heap their rich bags to live wretchedly poor; 
'Tis the cellar alone with true fame is renown'd, 
Her treasure's dilFusive, and chears all around : 
The gold and the gem's but the eye's gaudy toy, 
But the vintners' I'ich juice gives health, life, and joy. 

Klcliards, llM), St. Martin's Laiie, Ulinrin;; Cross. 














€\n perrL) ^ocictj)* 

THOMAS AMYOT, Esq. F.R.S. Treas. S.A. 
J. O. HALLIWELL, Esq. F.R.S., F.S.A. 
THOMAS WRIGHT, Esq. M A, F.S.A. , Secrelary 
and Treasurer. 


Of the legends in old English Alexandrine 
verse, which constitute a complete Liher Aestivalis 
in metre, for the whole year, one has already been 
presented to the members of the Percy Society, 
by Mr. Wright, in the publication (No. XLVlii) for 
August 1844 ; namely that of Saint Brandan. 
That is distinguished above others by the singu- 
larity of its subject-matter: the present is one of 
those lives of saints, which relate to Eno-lish 
history, and is by far the largest in the whole 
work. Not only docs it afford such a view of the 
life and character of that remarlcable prelate 
Thomas Beket, the far-famed Saint of Canter- 
bury, as was popularly entertained from the time 
of his death to the Reformation, but it fixes the 
period of the authorship of these legends, and, 
above all, enables us to ascertain the name of 
their author. 

Numerous copies of the whole, or of detached 
portions of this work, are extant in manuscript, 
and extracts from them have been given by vari- 

ous authors ; among whom may be mentioned 
Ashmole, in whose " Institution of the Order of 
the Garter"* are given five lines of the Life of 
Beket, from a vahiable MS. in his own collection 
at Oxford, now marked No. 43. That copy con- 
tains no fewer than ninety-five articles, beginning 
imperfectly with Saint Wolstan, (whose day falls 
on the 19 th of January,) and ending with Saints 
Oswald, Thomas of Canterbury, and Edward the 
Confessor : they are all in the order of the calen- 
dar except these last, whose days are 5th August, 
29th December, and 5th January respectively. 
Two of them, therefore, are wrongly placed, and 
Beket's life is, of all the saints or festivals treated 
of by this author, the latest in the year. In the 
Harleian MS. 2277, which begins with Benedict 
Abbat (this copy being defective as far as 21st 
March), t the life of Beket is the latest which 

* 1672, fol. p. 21. 

t " Its imperfection at the beginning may have deprived 
lis of the author's name, which after much search I cannot 
now retrieve; having little reason to believe him to be that 
John Goldestone mentioned by Pits, p. 407, who is said to 
have compiled Sermones de Sanctis, and to have flourished 
A.D. 1320, because it does not appear that he was poetically 
given, or that he wrote in the English tongue; and besides, 
the handwriting of this MS. seems to be older than that 
yeai'." — ■' Although the name of oui" old English poet may at 
this time be difficult to find out, yet the thing itself is of 


relates to saints ; but legends of Judas Iscariot 
and Pontius Pilatus follow. It is from this 
latter manuscript that the text of the following 
pages, as well as that of Saint Brandan's legend, 
is printed : both manuscripts are of one age, the 
latter part of the reign of Edward I., having 
been written (as nearly as can be conjectured) 
about the year 1300. The Editor has not found 
opportunity of using any other manuscript, ex- 
cept some parts of the Arundel MS. No. 8, in 
the Heralds' Office, which is as late as the middle 
of the fifteenth century, and contains only the 
legends of Michael the archangel, and Thomas 
Beket, following a copy of the Brute Chronicle, 
which terminates with the death of King Henry V. 
In his description of the last mentioned manu- 
script, theEditorfirst put forth an opinion, in 1829, 
that these legends " were evidently written in the 
time of Edward the First, and very probably by 
the author of the Chronicle called Robert of 
Gloucester's, the style and metre of which bear a 

considerable value, not only upon account of its rarity, (I 
not remembering to have met with any other exemplar of 
it), but also for the purity of its language, its age consi- 
dered, and the correctness of him who wrote it." — (Wanley, 
Harleian Catalogue, ii. 637, 639.) There are, however, 
several MSS. in the Bodleian, especially the Vernon MS., 
and at Cambridge, beside Harl. 2250 in the British Museum, 
which last does not contain the life of Beket. 


complete resemblance to these compositions."* 
In the same year, Sir Frederick Madden avowed 
the same opinion, in his edition of Havelok the 
Dane, which passed through the press at the 
same time as the Editor's work here quoted. 
Shortly after, the Editor had the opportunity of 
confirming that opinion, by perusal (among 
others) of the poem contained in these pages, 
which affords demonstrative proof of the identity 
of authorship between the Chronicle of England 
and the Lives and Legends, When therefore the 
Ashmolean MSS. passed under his review, for a 
critical description of their contents, in 1831 and 
following years, he hesitated not to intitle the 
before-mentioned manuscript (No. 43), thus : — 
" Lives of Saints and Legends of the Festivals, 
in the order of the English calendar, composed in 
Alexandrine verse by Robert of Gloucester, 
the author of the antient Metrical History of 

A scanty acquaintance with our early language 
is enough to refute the erroneous opinion of 
Warton, (who has quoted the first lines of 

* " Catalogue of the Arundel Manuscripts in the Library 
of the College of Arms, 1829. Not published." (London, 
8vo.) p. 14. 

t Catalogue of the Ashmolean MSS. by W. IL Black, 
(Oxford, 1845, 4to.) col. G4-(J8. 


Beket's Life from a Bodleian MS.)* that this 
work was written in the time of Richard I. ; the 
notice of the translation of Beket, from his orave 
to a costly shrine, which took place in 1220, dis- 
proves it at once. Moreover, there is the life of 
one English Saint contained in the series, who 
was the seventh successor of Beket in the see of 
Canterbury, and died so late as J 6th November 
]242, — namely Edmund, commonly called of 
' Pounteney ' or Pontigny, from his burial-place 
in France.f This Archbishop was canonized in 
1246 : therefore the work could not have been 
written till the middle of the thirteenth century, 
about which time Robert of Gloucester flourished. 
His Chronicle comes down to the year 1270;:{: 
and if the last leaf of the Cottonian MS. had 
been preserved, it would doubtless appear to have 
terminated with the death of King Henry HI, 
in 1272, or the coronation of Edward I. Unfortu- 
nately we know nothing certain about the author, 
except one autobiographical notice in his Chron- 
icle : for the manuscripts of that work are as des- 
titute of title or colophon, as those of the Legends 

* History of English Poetry, (8vo. ed.) i. 19. 

t Harl. MS. 2277, f. 155. Ashm. MS. 43, f. 177. See 
also Hearne's extracts from Mr. Sheldon's MS., in his 
Glossary to Robert Mannyng, (' Langtoft's Chronicle',) pp, 
007-609, and Gil. 

+ See p. 570 of the printed copies. 

are. The only authentic manuscript, which is in 
the Cottonian Collection, Caligula A. XL, has 
this modern heading, " Historia Regum Anglicv 
ad Ilenricum Tert'mm, a Roberto Glocesirensi, qui 
eodem tempore floruit,'''' which is not older than Sir 
Robert Cotton's time ; and, whatever evidence 
might then have existed for that name, certainly 
none of a direct nature is now known, although 
the passage alluded to strongly confirms it. The 
author describes a great darkness which happened 
on the day of "the murder of Evesham," ("for 
battle it was not," says he) ; and adds "-for thirty 
miles thence, this saw Roberd, who first this book 
made, and was well sore afeard."* The event hap- 
pened on the 4th of August, 1265. The distance 
of Evesham from Gloucester, being about twenty- 
five miles, well agrees with the supposition, (if it 
were no more than a supposition,) that this 
Robert was a man of Gloucester; and the dialect 
of his work agrees equally well with that of the 

It has already boon shown that the exact simi- 
larity of versification, style, phraseology, and 
dialect, first led the Editor to consider both 
works to be the production of one and the same 
author: but the proof of this opinion consists in 
the identity of considerable portions of the Life 

* Printed text, p. 660; and Hearne's Preface, p. Ixviii. 

of Beket with the text of the Chronicle. The 
most remarkable of these is the description of 
the murder, \\hcre thirty successive lines are 
alike in both poems; but neither these nor any 
other passages, which exactly correspond, can be 
considered as interpolations, but are evidently as 
genuine portions of the Chronicle as they are of 
the Legend. For the better manifestation of 
the fact, all that portion of the Chronicle, which 
relates to Beket's life and disputes with the King, 
his murder and its consequences, and his transla- 
tion, is given in the Appendix, from the Cottoni- 
an MS.,* and such references are made in the 
notes, from one text to the other, as will enable 
the reader easily to find the corresponding pas- 
sages, and to arrive at the inevitable conclusion, 
that they have both proceeded from one mind 
and one pen. It might indeed be said that they 
are inseparably parts of each other, but for the 
fact that the details of Beket's history are omitted 
in the great compilation, founded on the basis of 
Robert of Gloucester's " Englysshe geste in 
ryme," which was finished on the 6th of August, 
1448, and is preserved among the MSS. in the 

* It will be seen in the Appendix that one whole line, 
omitted by Hearne, has been restored, by following the MS. 
rather than the printed text. 


Heralds' Office.* In that copy, after the eighth lino 
of the portion quoted in the Appendix, no fewer 
than eight pages and a half of Hearne's text are 
left out, and the following lines are inserted in 
the stead, amongst the prose additions made by . 
compiler of that historical manuscript: — 

'' And many other thingus mo, of Seynt Thomas dedes, 
That felle by twixt him and the Kyng, in his Lif may me 

In the xj. C. yere of grace, this good man, Seynt Thomas, 
And Ixxj. thus imartu-ed was." (Fol. 246.) 

Let it not bo supposed that these are genuine 
lines of the original poet, for the compiler of that 
manuscript has taken the liberty of altering 
Robert's text throughout, and of adding or omit- 
ting ad libitum. The variations, at the foot of 
Hearne's pages, are a proof of this ; although they 
afford no adequate idea of the extent to which 
the original work has been altered, by the anony- 
mous historian. It is remarkable that he refers, 
in the lines hero quoted, to the " Life" of Beket, 
which in all probability was the poem contained 
in these pages : for, although numerous Latin his- 
torians are quoted by name, in the prose additions, 
the only reference to a written testimony occurring 
in the old ryme^ is to the metrical ' romance' of 

* Fully described in W. II. Black's Catalogue of the 
Aruudcl MSS., No. 58, pp. 1U4-11U. 


Richard Ooeur de Lion, which is given at full 
length in th(3 Heralds' MS., while here, probably 
by reason of the greater frequency of copies of 
the Saints' Lives, he contents himself with refer- 
ring to the Legend of Thomas; and this reference 
may, perhaps, be regarded as the indication of an 
acknowledgment that the two works had proceed- 
ed from one author. 

There are fifteen or sixteen Lives of other 
English Saints contained in the work from which 
this of Beket is taken ; among which may be 
traced some other correspondences with the same 
author's Chronicle. These, being short, may 
occupy the pages of some future publications of 
the Percy Society, and serve to throw some far- 
ther light on the interesting question of their 
authorship. Certainly they would greatly con- 
tribute to illustrate an edition of the metrical 
Chronicle, from the contemporary manuscript in 
the Oottonian collection, part only of which has 
been printed by Hearne, and that without the op- 
portunity of collating his printed sheets with the 
original, by reason of his distance from London. 
Should the Editor's time permit, and the Council 
of the Society approve, he would gladly undertake 
the performance of what is due to so veneiable a 
writer, and one who has for almost half his life 
been one of his favorite authors. 


The text of the following pages is taken from 
the Harleian MS. beforementioned, written little 
later than the author's own time. The Editor 
has thought proper to preserve, in every line, the 
colon which marks the ccesura, as in that and 
other antient copies : in the best manuscript of the 
chronicle a single point occurs, both in the middle 
and at the end of every line. In addition to a 
modern punctuation in other respects, he has 
carefully marked those syllables which need to be 
peculiarly accented or distinctly expressed, for the 
completion of the metre, which will be found 
tolerably regular, and equivalent (if each couplet 
were divided into four lines) to the later ballad- 
measure, or the ' common metre' and ' short metre"' 
of modern psalmody. Hearne's glossary to the 
chronicle will serve equally to explain this legend, 
to those who are unaccustomed to the language 
of the thirteenth century. 

The portrait of Beket, prefixed to this work, 
is copied in facsimile from an antient drawing with 
pen and ink, among other religious pictures, in the 
Black Book of the Receipt of the Exchequer, 
preserved in the Public Record Office, Rolls 
House ; where it follows a Calendar of Saints' 
Days, and extracts from the Gospels, formerly 
used in the administration of oaths in the Court 
of Receii)t. Tliis picture is not less remarkable 

for its apparent authenticity (bein^ at least as 
old as Beket's translation in 1220) than for the 
singular fact of its escape from the destruction 
levelled by King Henry VIII against every relic 
and vestige of the saint that his fury could reach, 
not excepting his very name. The Society is in- 
debted to the kindness of Mr. Fairholt, for the 
gratuitous execution of the engraving. 


Mill Yard, London, 

•27th Jvne, 1845. 




Gilbert was Thomas fader name: that true was and 

And lovede God and holi churche: siththe he wit un- 

The croice to the holie lond: in his junghede he nom, 
And mid on Richard, that was his man: to Jerusalem 

There hi dude here pelrynage: in holi stedes faste, 
So that among the Sarazyns: ynome hi were atte laste, 
Hi and other Cristene men: and in strong prisoun ido, 
Inmeseise and in pyne ynouj: of hunger and chile also. 
In stronge swynche ni3t and dai: to ofswynche here 

mete sti'onge: 
In such swyncli and harde lyve: hi bilevede (hem 

tho3te) longe. ^^ 

For ful other half 3 er: greate pyne hi hadde and schame, 



In the Princes lious of the hiwe: Admiraud was his 

Ac Gilbert of London: best grace hadde there, 
Of the Prince and alle his: among alle tliat ther were. 
For ofte al in feteres: and in othe[r] bende, 
The Prince he servcde atte mete: for him thojte hende. 
And ofte the Pi'ince al so god: in consail him wolde 

And of the manere of Engelond : him eschce, and of the 

So that me wolde his felawes: moche god ofte do, 
For his love, and hi furde: the bet for him also. 20 
And nameliche thurf a maide: that this Gilbert lovede 

The Princes doujter Admiraud: that liire hurte al upe 

him caste; 
That lovede him in durne love: in gret murnynge 

and in wo. 
ForthePrincesheirheowas: forhenadde children no mo. 
Of hire he hadde lute blisse: and lute harm hit was, 
For heo com to betere ende: as je schulle ihure that cas. 
This maide that lovede so: this man durneliche, 
Ileo spac tho heo scj hire tyme: Avith him priveiliche; 
Andeschtehim of Engelonde: and of the manere there, 
And of the lyf of Cristene men: and what here bile- 

ve were. ■'^" 

The manere of Engelonde: this Gilbert hire tolde fore. 
And the toun het Londone: that he was inne ibore; 
And the bilcve of Cristene men: this blisse withouteu 

en do, 


In hevene sclial here mecle beo: whan hi schulle lienne 

" Woldestou," quath this niaide tho: " ho so it wolde 

bede the," 
Tholiedethfor thi Louerdeslove?"thisGilbei*tseide"3e ;" 
And that him were switheleof: ho so him therto broujte. 
Tho this maide him isej so stedefast: heo stod longe in 

"Ich wole," heo seide, "al mi lond: leve for love of 

" And Cristene womman bicome: if thu wolt spousi 



Tho Gilbert ihurde this: he stod in grete thojt, 
And feignede his word her and ther: and ne grantede 

And seide he was al to hire wille : bote he moste bithenche, 
For he was stronge adrad 3ut: of wommanes wrenche. 
He drof hire evere biheste: this maide longede sore. 
And lovede him durneliche: evere the leng the more. 
Gilbert and his felawes siththe: as God the grace sende, 
Prisoun breke and by nijte: out of the londe wende. 
Thereveamorwe that hem scholde: to here labour lede, 
Nuste he tho he miste hem: what him was to rede, so 
Faste he suede after hem: he and othere mo, 
Ac er hi come to Cristene men: me ne mijt hem no3t 

Ac whan hi ne mijte no3[t] hem oftake: a3en hi turnde 

And dude here beste a3e the Prince: ac evereft he 

was wo. 

B 2 


The maide makede deol ynouj: tliatlieo was evere ibore, 
For al the ioye of thisse lyve: hire tliujte heo hadde 

Heowep and makede somoche deol: that me ne hurdc 

nevere more, 
Ne telle of womman that me wiste: that love abou3te 

so sore. 
For hi nijte heo wende alone: heo niiste whoderward, 
And of spense with hire nom: to siche Gilbard. f'O 
And bilevede al hire grete heritage, and hire cun also, 
And ne sparede for no sorewe: that mi5te come hire to; 
Ne for siknisse, ne for deth: ne for sorewe, ne for wo, 
Ne for peryl in the see: na londe nothe mo; 
Ne that heo scholde among Cristene men: vilere than 

an hound beo, 
Ne that hi ne knewe hire speche no3t: ne heo nuste 

whoderward teo; 
Ne whar he scholde alyve: this Gilbert fynde 03t, 
Ne whar he wolde hire spousi: whan heo him hadde 

al isojt. 
And natheles heo wende forth: with wel god i)as. 
Hou thinjth thou, nas heo hardi nojt? for gode me 

thin3th heo was. 't^ 

Heo nom and eschte to Engelonde: and gret peryl 

an honde nom, 
So that in pyne and wo ynou: atte laste heo com. 
And tho heo was alles thidcr icome: heo ne couthe 

Englisch word non, 
Bote '* Londone, Londonc:" to csche whoderward gon. 
And thcrthurf me ta3te hire the wei: so that heo thidcr 



And jeocle aboute as a best: that ne coutlie no wystlom, 
As lieo were of another wordle: that folc thicke 

To biholde such a mopisch best: aboute hire ther drouj. 
And nameKche 3unge childerne: and wylde boyes also. 
For the wonder suede hire: and scornede hire 

therto. 8" 

So that mid noyse and cri ynou5 : attan ende bi cas, 
Tho heo com aje thulke hous: ther this Gilbert was, 
As Seint Thomas was inne ibore: joyful was that cas, 
Ther is nouth an hospital: arerd of Seint Thomas. 
As Richard therinne was: the noyse he ihurde there. 
Out he 3eode forte awaite: what that wonder were. 
Hid stod, tho he hire ikneu: as a man that were forlore, 
In gret wonder he cm in: and toldehis louerd fore. 
This Gilbert tho3te wonder gret: ac thenchesoun wel 

he thojte; 
He het Richard that he hire uome: and amid a god 

wyf brojte '-"^ 

Ther biside, that faire ynou: and with fair semblant 

hire nom. 
Attan ende tho this Gilbert: bifore this maide com. 
This maide ful uprijt iswojc: tho heo him isej, 
That deol was among al that folc: that ther was tho 

This Gilbert him huld somdel stille: as him nothing 

nere ; 
Ac six Bischopes thulke tyme: at Seint Poules were, 
As hit were at a parlement: for neodes of the londe, 


This Gilbei't in this wonder cas: him gan understonde, 
And 3eode and tolde everechdel: red alto afonge. tioo 
Therof hem wondrede alle: and in consail stode longe. 
The Bischop furst of Cliichestre: his avys seide tlianne, 
That hit was a bitokninge: of God and n05t of manne; 
And that God wokle that hi wci'e i spoused: and such 

cas sende therfore, 
And tliat ther mijte sum holi child: bituene hem beou 

Tlierfore alle hi radde: and bituene hem gonne biseo, 
That this Gilbert hire scholde spousi: if heo wolde 

Cristene beo. 
So that this maide amorwe: tofore this Bischops com. 
Hi radde hire for Gilbertes love: afonge Cristendom. 
"Wei fawe," quath this maide tho: "if he me wolde 

spousi ojt. 
" For 30 mowe alle understonde: if y nadde that ithojt, 
"I nadde bileved al mi cun: and so wide him iso3t,Cllo 
" Ne mid hunger and other wo: him so deore abo3t." 
This maide ibapti3ed was: among the Bischop[s] echon, 
And he3e men therate of the lond: ther were menion. 
For reverence of the he36 cunne: and the gentyl blod 

Of wham heo com, and for heo was: semee and fair 

Of this Bischops hi were anon: ispoused in the 

Ech man mai siggS wel: that ther was Godes grace. 
For the furste ni5t afterward: bituene hem bi3ute was 


The godg child of wham we speketh: the holi Seint 

Thomas. 120 

This Gilbert amorwe: so gret wille him com to, 
To wende eft to the holi lond: that he nuste what do. 
Of his wjf was his meste care: hou scholde fram hire 

beo ibrojt, 
That was so 3ung, and lieo ne couthe: of the londes 

lawe no5t. 
So moche he carede durneliche: that hit was care 

to iseo, 
His wyf was eke in grete thojte: wherfore hit mijte beo, 
And dradde that hit were for hire: for hi were is- 

poused so. 
Ne mai no man clene telle: of here beire durne wo. 
This junge wyfnolde fyne: on hire louerd to grede, 
Forte thenchesoun of his sor: al clenliche he hire 

sede; 130 

And hou his care was al for hire: to theholie londe to 

" Sire," seide this gode wyf: " oure Louerd his grace 

the sende ! 
'' Lute we habbeth to gadere ibeo: and lute joye afonge, 
" And if tliu wendest thane wey: oute tliu worst wel 

" Ac no3t for than ic bidde the: if thu haste wille 

and thojt, 
" In oure Louerdes servise to wende: ne lef hit for me 

" For ich hopie that mi Louerd: that me hath iwist 



" The while tliat y ne kneu him nojt: 3ut he wole also. 
" And eke nou ic am of his: therfore ic bidde the, 
"If thu wolt wende in his servise: ne lef it nojt for 

me. 140 

"Ac bilef me Richard thi man: that mi wardeyn 

mowe beo, 
"That knoweth me and mi langage: forte ic the eft 

Gilbert tho heo hurde this: in gret ioy was ido, 
He ordeyned wel his hous: and his meyne also; 
And his wyf hou heo libbe scholde: forte God sende 

other sonde, 
And wende forth a Godes name: to the holi londe. 
And was oute threo 3er and an half: er he aje com. 
Tho he com he fond his sone: a god goinge grom. 
Theonige fair and manliche: as eni child mi3te beo, 
Ech man tolde of him pris: that him mijte iseo. l^o 
"Wel he wax and ithe3: and to eche godnisse drou3, 
3ung he was to skole iset: and spedde wel ynou3. 
His moder him wolde aldai rede: and ofte on him crie. 
To lede chast lyf and clene: and fleo lecherie. 
And lovie tofore alle thing: God and Seinte Marie, 
And servie hem and holi churche: and leve alle folic. 
This child the3 hit were 3ung: wel hit iinderstod. 
For sell child is sone ilered: tlier he wole beo god. 
Tho this child was bot in elde: of tuo and twcnti 3er, 
His moder wende out of thissc lyve: that so wel him 

loved er. it'O 

This child wold Icng to scole go: ac his fader him uolde 



For child that hath his moder ilore: his help is moche 

bi hynde. 
This child thurf his fader heste: as man that no red 

Servede aburgejs of the toun: and his accouutes wi-ot, 
So longe that he com to court: and was in god offiz 
With the Archebischop of Canterbury: SireThebaud 

god and wys. 
He servede him so hendeliche: that in a lute stounde, 
He makede him his consailler: so stedefast he him 

His Arcedekne he makede him siththe: and dude al 

bi his rede. 
Swithe wel gan this Arcedekne: holi churche lede, ^^o 
And stifliche huld up hire rijtes: as meni men iseye, 
And therof noldfi tholie wrong: thej he scholde ther- 

fore deye. 
Wel ofte he wende to Rome: for holi churche also, 
(Suche prelatj nou an urthe: tofewe ther beoth ido,) 
So that the Due of Normandie: ymaked was al in pees, 
Henri Kyng of Engelond: after Stevene the Belees. 
He lovede moche wel to do: and gode men to him nom, 
This Henri the gode Kyng: tho he to londe com; 
And fondede to habbe god consail: and wys thurf al his 

Forto holde riche and pore: andeche man torijte. ^^^ 
Of the Ardekne Thomas: me tolde him sone ynouj, 
Hou he stable and wys: and to eche godnisse drouj. 
Thurf the Archebischopes grant: he makede him 



For evere memountej hiin above: that haveth mest poer. 
Tho Seiut Thomas was iturnd: fram offij of holichurche, 
To a gret olRj of the wordle: therafter he moste wuvche. 
Alto nobley of the workle: his contenance he broujte, 
That me ne huld non so prout: thej other were in his 

With more noblei he rod 7110113: than he was woued 

to do; 
His loreyns weren of golde: stiropes and spores also. 1^0 
The pley he snede of houndes : and of hauekes also ynouj, 
As men thojte in eche poynte: alto prute he drouj. 
Ac in his hurte hit was another: hou so he him evere 

[And ever chaste thurgheal thy ng: how so ever it were.] 
And evere he was for holi churche: and for pore men 

Ajen the proute conteckours: that wolde ajen hem 

05 1 do; 
To liolde up the rijtes of holi churche: so moche wo he 

gan dryve, 
A3cn the lithere conteccours: that nuyedc him of his 

As the Archebischop tolde: wepinge wel sore, 
And othere ofte in priveite: that lovcde him the 

more. 200 

He wilncde mest of alle thing: and on oure Louerd gan 

That he moste with onur: levC thulke baillie. 
And ech other service of court: bi the Kynges gode 



For he nc mijte paye his court: bote he scholde his 

soLile spille. 
Ac the King him fond so stable: and so god consailler, 
That he nolde maki for no thing: another chanceler. 
He ne triste to non so moche: ne ther nas non so hej, 
That so moche wistehis priveitez: ne that him was so 

So moche he caste his hurte on him: that on his warde 

he gan do 
His eldeste sone Sire Plenri: and his heire also; 210 
That he were his wardeyn: and his ordeynour, 
To wisse him after hiswille: and to the Kinges honur. 
The King wende to Normandie: to seo tourney there, 
And bilevede his sone with Seint Thomas: that he his 

wardeyn were. 
Bothe the fader and the sone: so moche here love caste, 
Upe Seint Thomas the holi man: the while it wolde 

Ther nas non in Engelonde: that hadde so gret poer. 
Of the ky nedom as Seint Thomas : that was Chanceler. 
Hit bifulsiththe that Sire Tebaud: (as God the grace 

Tharchebischop of Canterbure: out of this wordle 

wende. 220 

The crie was sone wide couth: among thue and 

That Seint Thomas scholde after him: Archebischop 

The King also in Normandie: tho me tolde him the cas, 
Anon bar his hurte mest: to do ther Seint Thomas. 


The Covent of Canterbury: desirede liira also; 

So as men wolde: ibron3t hit was therto. 

At Westmynstre he was ichose: to thulke heje poer, 

The vyfte jer that he was: ymaked Chanceler. 

Of elde he was thulke tyme: of four and fourti jer; 

His owe deth he afeug: and his owe martirdom ther. 

For the Kyng was in Normandie: i])resented he l--^'^ 

To his 5unge sone in Engelonde: for non other Kyng 

ther nas. 
Ac thej hit were a3en his wille: he nolde hit no3t forsake, 
Ac he eschte in whiche manere: he scholde the croicc 

Me seide him that scholde afonge: holi churche so freo, 
That heo ne scholde under no man: bote under the 

Pope beo ; 
Ne nothing thenche bote holde up: lioli churche lawe. 
"In thissc liianere,-' quath Seint Thomas: "ic hire 

afonge fawe." 
A TTitsonedai this was: that this dede com to ende, 
This gode man toward Canterbury: anon him gan weude. 
Al the contray with onur: to him com and drouj; C'^i'^ 
Ther was for him in Canterbury: ioye and blisse ynouj. 
The dai of the Trinite : isacred he was, 
And afeng his dignete: the gode man Seint Thomas. 
Sire Henri the Kynges sone: was at bis sacringc, 
And sixtene Bischops ek: this dede to ende fortobringe. 
Tho this dede was ido: hi gonne to sendC sone, 
After his pallioun to Rome: as rijt was to done. 
The Pope Alisandre: was tho at Moutpaillers, 


Thicler wende this wisC' men: that were messagers.250 
I'he Abbot Adam of Evesham: to here cheveteyn hi 

To the Pope Alisaiidre: to Montpaillers hi come. 
Here erande hi hadde sone: for he hem nothing ne 

Hi neme of him here leve: and hamward a^e turnde. 
And this pallioun was: to Seint Thomas ibrou3t : 
This gode man hit afeng: with wel mykle thojt. 
Tho he was in his dignete: al clanliche ido, 
He gan to cliangi al his lyf: and his manere also. 
The here he dude next his liche: his flesches maister 

to beo. 
Schurte and brech streit jnouy. adoun to the kneo. 
For he tho3te he mijte wel: of othere habbe maistrie, 
If he hadde of his owe flesch: thurfout seignurye. 202 
If his sonle maister were: and his flesch hire hyne, 
Him thojte he mijte his dignete: bringe to god fyne. 
Above the here siththe: thabyt of monek he nom, 
And siththe clerkes robe above: as to his stat bicom. 
So that he was withinne monek: withoute clerk also, 
Thurf thabyt that he hadde on him: priveiliche ido. 
In penance and in fastinge: he was nijt and dai, 
And in oreisoun bote the while: he aslepe lai. 270 

Evere wan he masse song: he wep and sijte sore, 
Faste he hastede therwith: ne mijte no man more. 
Faire me fedde him atte mete: with great noble and 

And of the beste hira silve he at: swithe scars and lute. 


Of his ordres he was wel streit: and he was in greete 

Forto ordeini eni man: bote he the betere were. 
Idel nolde he nevere beo: bote evere doinge he was, 
Of eche manere of betere lyve: nevere bischop nas. 
Sire Henry the Kinges sone: that with him was ibrojt, 
Levede evere in his warde: fram him he nolde nojt.^so 
The love that bituene hem was: such nas nevere 

Ne this child nadde of no man: more love ne fairere eye. 
Siththe that hit biful that the King: fram Norman- 
die com 
To Engelond, to loke the stat: of his kynedom. 
Seint Thomas nam with him: Sire Henri his sone, 
And wende faire a3en him: anon to South Hamptonne. 
Ther was ioye and blisse ynouj: tho hi togadere come. 
Hi custen hem faste and clupte: and herede God Home. 
The King bilevede in Engelond: to loke his kynedom, 
And to al his privei consail: Seint Thomas he nom; 
And huld him evere as he dude er: his hejiste t290 

And nolde his thonkes habbe ihaved :non other chanceler. 
Ac nathcles whan he eni thing: dude ajen rijte, 
Seint Thomas was therajen: evere bi al his myjte. 
Siththe hit biful that the Bischop: of Wircestre ded 

And Sire Gilbert Foliot: (as God 3af that cas), 
That was Bischop of Hereford: ibrojt was jut to more, 
And ymaked Bischop of Londone: that ne reude him 
Mojt sore. 


So tliat both the bischopi'iches: fulle bothe in the 

Kynges hontl, 
Of Wircestre aud of Hereford: as hiwe was of lond. 
The Kjng lie jaf hem no3t anon: ac he huld hem 

iniie longe, ^'^^ 

In his hond tliat he myjte: the more prou afonge. 
Hit ue likede no5t Seint Tliomas: that holi churche so, 
Scholde for a lute coveitise: in the Kinges hond beo ido. 
Him thojtethat hit was wel mocliel: ajeii oure Louerdes 

And that the Kyng myjte so: holi ehurche spille. 
In faire manere he bad the Kyng: that he ne scholde 

That thulke tuei bischopriches: sum god man he jeve. 
The Kyng anon myldeliche: grantede his bone. 
And this bischopriches he jaf: tuei gode men wel sone. 
Sire Roger he makede a god man : Bischop of Wircestre, 
Sire Roberts sone that was: Eorl of Gloucestre. 312 
Bischop he makede of Hereford: a good man ynouj. 
Sire Robert of Mulnes: that to alle godnisse drouj. 
Ano5t Seint Thomas thojte wel: that he ne mijte 

all paye, 
The King ne his consail, bote he Avolde: holi churche 

In care and sorewe he was ynou: liou he mi3te beste do. 
For he ne mi3te no3t pae the Kyng: and oure Louerd 

Seint Thomas lialewe thulke 3er : the cliurche of 

That ifounded was and arerd: thurf Henri oure Kynge; 


That lyth ther faire ibured: Williames sone Bastard. 321 
Intliulke3er Seint Thomas ek: schrynede Seint Edward, 
At Westmynstre as he litli: that bifore Kyng Wilhem 

Bote King Harald him was bituene: for his poer no 

leng uas. 
The love was evere gret ynou3: bituene Seint Thomas 
And the King, forte the devel: hit desturbede, alias! 
Lute and lute the contek aros: for pore manes rijte, 
For paye oure I-oucrde and the King: no man ne mijte. 
The furste tyme that Seint Thomas: outliche him 

Was for pouere men that the Kynge: dude an unrijt 

dede. 330 

The King nom thurf al Engelond: fram 3ere to 3ere 

After his wille a summe of pans: ideld in echeside. 
And siththe he let thurf enqueste: thurf the contray 

Hou moch eche man scholde paye: and what here ri3t 

So longe that he nom it to taillage: and eschte hit 

atte laste, 
Eche 3ur thurf a certeyn rente: thurf al Engelonde 

Wliat for eye, what for love: non him ne withsede, 
Ac evere tho3te Seint Thomas: that hit was an unri3t 

He tho5te on God and on his soule: and bilevcde man- 



And to the King wel baldeliclie: wende withoute 

drede. 340 

" Sire," he seide, " if hit is thi wille: thu ert riche and 

" And Kyng of gret poer ynou3 : oure Louerd the morg 

sende ! 
" A taiUage thu hast ech jer: thurf out al thi londe, 
" And eschet hit for a certeyn rente: with unrijt ich 

"For certeyn rente schal beo itake: ech 3er at a cer- 
teyn day, 
"And siththe a certeyn assigned: as thu wost by rijte 

"Ac this nas nojt certeyn itake: eche 3er assigned is, 
" Thurf enqueste of the contray: as taillage, iwis. 
" Whar thurf me thinjth a certeyn rente: thu ne mi3t 

no3t make, 
"Ac a taillage and sumdel: with unri3t itake." 350 
"Thomas, Thomas," quath the Kyng: "thu ert mi 

" Thu au3test bet holde up: than withsigge mi poer." 
" Sire," quath this holi man: " ich habbe ibeo with the, 
" And thu hast (God hit the 3ulde): gret god idome; 
" Ac another baillie ich habbe afonge: the3 hit were 

a3en mi wille. 
" And ynemai no3t bothe wel: bote ich mi soule aspille. 
" For ich am alto lute worth: that on forto loke. 
" Thanne dude he gret folic: that more me bitoke. 
" Therfore ich 3ulde the up here: al clene the chan- 



" And take me to holi churche: to God and Seinte 

Marie." 360 

Tho was the King wroth ynou3: wrothere than he 

evere was ; 
Ac natheles his hurte bar: evere to Seint Thomas. 
The thridde thing 5ut mest of alle: in eontek hem 

A preost ther was a lither man : that of God nojt ne 

That of manslajt was bicliped: and ynome also, 
And in the Bischopes prisoun was: of Salesbury ido. 
The manSs freond that was aslawe: suede up him faste, 
So that the preost to jugement: ibro3t Avas atte laste. 
Me acusede him faste of the dethe: ac he nanswerede 

no5t therto, 
And huld him faste to holi churche: and upe non other 

nolde hit do. 370 

Iloked he was to purgi him: thurf clergie if hemijte, 
And therof him was dai iset: thurf holi churche rijte. 
Tho the dai him was icome: he no mijte him purgi 

He was sone ilad ajen: and in prisoun ibro3t. 
Thanne was the Bischop in grot doute: what were 

therof to done, 
Forto habbe wisere red: to Seint Thomas he sende sone. 
And he sendg wordeaj^: that he scholde the preost take, 
And desordeyni him of his ordre: and a lewed man of 

him make; 
And siththe in strong wardc him do: that lie nevere 

out ne wende, 


In penance and in pyneynou3: his synne forto amende. 
The Bischop of Salesbury: dude Seint Thomas heste,38i 
So that this preost was ibro5t: in turmentj with the 

So that the tethinge therof: to the Kynge com, 
That a lither theof and a manquellere: hadde so lijt 

Him thojte that hit nas no3t lawe: ne that hit mijte 

beo so; 
And Phelip de Boys a canoiin: him hadde eke misdo. 
Therfore was ech other clerc: the more a5en his wille, 
Him thojte such lawe scholde: the pays of londe aspille. 
He wilnede as god Kyng: pays in his londe, 
And in god entente wel hit do: he dude ech under- 

stonde. 39iJ 

For the pays of the londe: he wolde holde also fawe, 
As Seint Thomas in his manure; holi churche lawe. 
He seide that the develes lymes: that ycrouned were so, 
That mijte so al longe dai: a3en his pays do. 
For the jugement was so lute: the lasse hi wolde doute. 
And do theoftlie and robberie: in al the lond aboute. 
To "Westmystre he let sumni: theBischopes of his londe, 
And Clerkes that grettest wer6 ek: andhejist, ich un- 

''Beaus seignurs," he seide: "ynot what ye habbeth 

" If 36 goth forth mid 50ure wille: oure pays ne worth 

ri3t no3t. 400 

"If a clerk hath a man aslawe: other gret theofthe 




" And lieo rnowe be desordeyned: and come to fjne so; 
" Misdo lii wolleth al longe day: and theruppe beo 

wel bolde, 
" And so schal the pays of the londe: wol uvele beon 

"For lute hi wolde recche: to loose here ordre so, 
" Whan for here ordre hi ne sparieth: theofthe forto do. 
*• Ac evere the he3ire here ordre is: me thinjth, bi 

pur lawe, 
" The strongere scholde here dom beo: whan hi wolde 

to theofthe drawe." 
" Sii'e, sii-e," quath Seint Thomas: "(if hit is thi 

"Loth ous were do eni thing: thi pays forto aspille. 
" Ac clerkes that beoth yordeyned: thu wost hi bereth 

a signe, 


" That hi beoth lymes of holi churche: that so worthi 

is and digne. 
" If hi were thanue with thulkg signe: to uvele dethe 

" Aviled werg and ischend: holi churche so. 
" If hi beoth furst desordeyned: for thulke silvedede, 
" And siththe thurf dom to dethe ido: hit nere nojt 

wel to rede. 
" For hit nas nevere laAve ne rijt: doble dom to take, 
" For trespas as thu wost: and sinne hit were to make. 
" And unworthere than a lewed man :holi churche were so, 
" For a lewed man for o trespas: nis bote ojugement ido. 
" Thcrfore thi grace we bisecheth: (if liit is thi 

wille,) 421 


" That thu ne rere no iiue lawe: holi cburche to spille. 
" For we biddetli nijt and dai: as rijt is that we do, 
" For the and for thi children ek : and for thi kynedom 

"Beau sire," quath the King tho: "thu saist wel 

" Ich hadde loth bi myne concience: do holi cburche 

eni W0U3. 
" Ac lawes ther beoth and custumes: that evere hab- 

beth ibeo iholde, 
" Of bischopes thurf al Engelonde: as oure ancestres 

habbeth itolde. 
" And bi theKyng Henries dai: that oure ancestre was, 
" Iconfermed were and iholde ek: that no man ther 

aje nas. 430 

" Woltou thulke lawes holde? do me to understonde 

*' We schuUe do, sire," quath Seint Thomas: " al that 

is to done. 
" Alle the lawes and custumes: we woleth holde bi 

oure mijte, 
"That beoth to holde and habbeth ibeo: sire, sauv6 

oure rijte." 
" Sauf joure rijtes?" quath the Kyng: " beau sire, whi 

saistou so? 
"Ine scholde nothing bi that word: aye thi wille do 
" That thu noldestsigge that hit were: a3en holi cburche 

" And bringe so al mi lond: in contek and in fijte. 
"Ac therwithoute oldc lawes: siker ich understonde, 


" That hit beo venyiiious: to the pays of mi londe."-i^O 
" Sire, sire," quath this holi man: " iie meve ^e 3011 ri3t 

" Wei thu wost that ech of ous: er we were herto 

" Trunisse the swoi'e, as ri5t was: and urthlich onur also, 
" Sauve oure ordre and oure ri5t: ac that was out ido. 
" Hou scholde we nouthe other do? ne aujte 50 ous no3t 

" For Godes love hold ous to ri3te: for 36 nabbeth non 

other neode." 
" Ich iseo wel, Thomas," quath the King: " wharto 

thu wolt drawe: 
" Thu ert icome to late forth: to bynyme ous oure lawe. 
" Thu woldest me rnakemoi'e wrecche: than evere eni 

kyng was: 
'• Thu ert icome therto to late: thu liast icast ambezas." 
The Kyng aros mid wraththe ynou3: and let hem sitte 

echon, ^^l 

And to his chambre wend forth: and no grette no5ton. 
Fram Londone he wende sone: in wraththe as the3 hit 

He ne seide no man of his tho5t: ac bilevede hem theix'. 
ThoBischopestho3tethoanon: thathe was wroth ynou3, 
Ther were fewe bote Seint Thomas: that toward him 

ne drou3. 
On Seint Thomas hi cride faste: his tho3t forto wende. 
Other he wolde al that lond: withthulkcwortli aschende. 
Knyghtes and othere eft come: that with the Kinge 



And bede him ententifliche : that he thulke word forbere ; 
And that him were gret folie: the King in wraththe 

bringc, 461 

And desturbi al that lond: for so kite thinge. 
Seint Thomas in thojte longe: " Leove bretheren," he 

"Nevere a3e the Kynges honur: ynelle do no dede. 
"Ac ech word ich wole bileve: that aje the Kynges 

honur is." 
Tho were thothere gUid ynouj: tho hi ihux'de this; 
And radde him wende to the Kyng: his wraththe for- 

to stille. 
"Leof me were," quath Seint Thomas: " mid rijte do 

his wille." 
To the Kyng he wende to Oxenford: and with him 

ther he fond 471 

Grete Eorles, and Barouns: the he3iste of tlie lond. 
The King him welcomede so: mid wel lute chere. 
Bischopes he letclipie: and Eorles that ther were. 
"Beau sires," quath the King: " ich am Kyng: with 

rijtes of this londe: 
" Custumes ther were bifore: yused ich understonde. 
"And so moche wrecche nam ynojt: that ynelle the 

lawes holde, 
" Thatoure anc^stres hulde wyle: asourecounsailou[r]s 

" Therfore ich wole that thulke lawes: iconfermed beo 

"Of myn Eorles and of myne Knyjtes: that hi ne 

withsigge nojt on. 


" Therfore icli bote 50U echone: that 36 beo tliulke day, 
" At mi maner at Clarendone: witlioute ech delay, 480 
" To confermi thulke lawes: upe peyne that ich wole 

" Ich bote that 56 beo tber ecbon: tbat nothing 30U ne 

Sitbtbe departede this court: to his inne ech drou3, 
And evere was Seint Thomas: in care and soi*ewe 

The Biscbops and theBarouns: come alle to the daye, 
To Clarendone in Wiltescbire: the Kyng for to paye. 
The parlement him was ibolde: in the ellevetbe 3ere 
Of the Kynges coronement: that so mocbe folc brou3te 

And elleve bondred 3er: in the furthe and sixti 3er ri3t, 
Hit was after that ourc Louerd: in his moder was ali3t. 
Noble was the parlement: of this Clarendone, 't^i 

For tber were, furst and aforeward: the Kyng and his 

And the Arcbebiscbop of Canterbury: and Sire Roger 

Tbarcbebiscbop of Everwyk: fornere tber bote tbei tuo. 
And Sire Gilbert Foliot: Bischop of Londone, 
And the Biscbop of Lincolne: were alle at Clarendone. 
And Sire Neol, Biscbop of Ely: and the Biscbop of 

Sire Roger, and Sire Ilillari: Bischop of Circestre. 
The Biscbop William of Nortwich: and the Bischop of 

Sire Heni*i, and Sire Bartlomeu: Biscbop of Chicbestre. 


Sire Osbern, and Sire Godefrai: Bischop of Excestre,50i 
Sire Austin, and Sire Bias: Bischop of Wircestre. 
The Biseliop of Salesbury: Jocelyn, and Robert, 
The Bischop of Herford: and also Sire Richard, 
The Bischop of Chestre: this Bischops echon, 
Were at this parlement: and Eorles meni on. 
Sire Renald Eorl of Cornwaille: and the Eorl of 

Sii*e Robert, and Sire Roger: Eorl of Gloucestre. 
Sire Conan Eorl of Bretaigne: and the Eorl John of 

Sire Godefrai Eorl de Maundevyle: was ther also. ^10 
Sire Hughe Eorl of Chestre: and Eorl Williem of 

Were at this parlement: stout ynou and fers. 
Barouns ther were meni on: as Sire Williem de Lucj, 
And Sire Renaud de Wareyne: and Sire Renaud de 

Seint Walry. 
Sire Roger Bigod also: Sire Richard de Caunvyle, 
Sire Williem de Brewesek: Sire Robert deDunstanvyle. 
Sire Neel de Mountbray: Sire Umfrai de Booun, 
Sire Simon de Beauchamp: louerd of meni o toun. 
Sire Jocelin de Baillolf: Sire Williem de Hastinge, 
Sire Hughe de Morevyle: that so wel was with the 

Kynge. 520 

Sire Williem Malet: Sire Johan the Seneschal, 
Sire Simon le Fiz Peres: gret man thurfout al. 
Sire Williem de Maudut: and Sire Godefrai de Veer; 
Thus alle grete louerdlings: and jut mo were ther. 
Nou God helpe Seint Thomas: (for he was alone,) 


That withseicle atte laste: this lordlings echone. 

Tho hi bigonue this parlement : the King him eschte anon, 

Whar hi wolde the lawes holde: as his ancestres dude 

" Sire," quath Seiut Thomns: " if hit thi wille is, 529 
" Ech man mot speke for him silve: and ich for me iwis. 
" For my stat, and for holi ehni'che: icli ansuerie therto, 
"That alle the gode old lawes that habbeth ibeo: and 5ut 

beotli also, 
Granti ich woli for holi churche: and for to habbe 

thin ore, 
" Sauf cure ri3t and oure ordre: thu ne mi5t esche no 

For that word the King was wroth : that gan him evere 

Seint Thomas wep in his hurte: and sore gan to sike. 
Alto blodi was that word: and deore hit was iboujt, 
For therfore to dethe he was: atte laste ibrou3t, 538 
The Bischop of Northwich: and of Salesbure also, 
Kneulede tofore him wepinge : that he scholde another do ; 
And habbe reuthe of holi churche: and of hem echone, 
Thathineretogroundcibrou3t: thurfthulke word alone. 
Ilejc men of the Kinges curt: meni on eke wende. 
And kneulede tofore Seint Thomas: that word to amende. 
"Lordlings," quath Seint Thomas: "ich am 5ut 3ung 

" And lute while bischop ibeo: and lute theron ich can. 
"Therfore of this olde lawes: transcrit he me take, 
"And ich wole ther uppe consailli mc: which beo to 



The Kjng him let transcrit make: of this custumes 

echon : 
Seint Thomas grantede somme: and withseide meni on. 
The lawes that ich wole 30U telle: he grantede wel 

fawe: — 551 

If a bonde man hadde a sone: to clei'gie idravve, 
He ne scholde withoute his louerdes leve: not icrouned 

Forthu man ne mai no3tboutehislouerd: beo ymaked 

Another lavve he grantede ek: that ^e mowe nou iseo: 
If eni man of lioli churche: holdeth eni laifeo, 
Persoun, other what he beo: he schal do therfore, 
Servise that to tlie kinge faith: that his rijt ne beo 

And in plaiding stondein eche place: and jugement also, 
Bote ther man schal beo bylymed: other to dethe ido. 
He grantede ek if eni man: the kinges tray tour were, 
And eni man his catel: to lioli churche here; 502 

That holi churche ne scholde nojt: the catel there 

That the kyng wel baldeliche: out of the churche hit 

For al that the feloun hath: the kynges hit is, 
And eche man mai in holi churche: his owe take iwis. 
He grantede ek that a churche: as of the kinges ce, 
In one stede evere and evere: ne scholde i3eve beo, 
As to hous of religioun: withoute the kinges leve. 
And that he, other the patroun: furst the 3ift 3eve. 
Seint Thomas grantede this: and fele otherfe mo, 571 
Ac this othere he withsede: that dude him wel wo: — 


If bituene tuei lewede men : were eni strivinge, 
Other bituene a lewede man and a clerc: for lioli 

chux'che tliinge; 
As for an avoweisoun of cliurche: whether scholde the 

churche 5yve; 
The king wokle that in his bond: the phii were idryve: 
Fora[s]moche as a lewed man: that o parti was, 
Clanliche was under the kyng: and under the bischopnas. 
That other was, that no bischop: ne clerc nothe mo, 
Ne schulde withoute the kinges leve: outof Engelonde 

go, 580 

And thanne hi schulde swerie here oth: upe the boc, iwis, 
That hi ne scholde purchaci non uvel: the Kyng, ne 

non of his. 
The thridde was, that if eni man: in mansing were 

And siththe come to amendement: and aje ri5te nere 

That he ne swore nojt upe the boc: ac borewesfynde 

To stonde to al that holi churche: with rijtfe lokie wolde. 
The furthe was, that no man: that of the kinge huld ojt, 
In chief other in eni servise: in mansinge wereibrojt; 
Bote the wardeyn of holi churche: that brou3t6 him 

therto, 589 

The king sende other his baillif: what he hadde misdo; 
Andloke ther wer he wolde: to amendement hit bringe, 
And bote he wolde bi here leve: dotluinne the mansinge. 
The vyftfi was^ that bischoprichcs: and abbeyes 



That vacantz were of prelatz: in kinges hond were iclo; 
And the king scholde al that lond: in his hond take, 
Forte atte laste that him luste: eni prelat ther make; 
And thulke prelat thanne sholde: in his chapel ichose 

Of his clerk es which he wolde: to prelat biseo; 
And thanne whan he were ichose: in his chapel rijt 

Homage he scholde him do: er he confermed were.600 
The sixte was, if eni play: to chapitre were idrawe, 
And eni makede his appel: that me dude him unlawe; 
To the bischop fram arcedekne: his appel he scholde 

And from bischop to archebischop : and siththe non 

hejere take; 
And bote the archebischopes curt: to ri3te him woldg 

That he scholde fram thulke curt: biclipie to the kynge; 
And fram kingeno hejere mo: and siththe attan ende, 
Plaidinge fram holi churche : to the ky nge scholde wende ; 
And the king amendi scholde: the archebischopes dede, 
And beo in the popes stede: that Seint Thomas with- 

sede. . 610 

The sovethe is, that plaiding: that of dette were. 
To julde wel with truthe iplijt: and nojt ijulde nere. 
Al thej thurf truthe were the play: hit scholde beon 

Bifore the king and his baillifs: and to holi churche 

The ei3tethewas, that in thelonde: citacioun non nei'e, 


Thiirf bulle of the pope of Rome: ac al clene ileved 

The neo3ethe was, that Peteres pans; that me 

gadereth meni on, 
To the pope nere not on isend: ac to the king echon. 
The teethe Avas, if eni clerk: as feloun were itake, 
And for feloun iproved: and ne mi5te hit no5t forsake; 
That me scholde him furst desordeyny: and siththe 

thurf pur lawe, C2l 

And pur jugement of the lond: bringe him out of 

The King thuse custumes pulte forth: and meni 

other anon, 
And het thurfout al Engelond: holde heiji echon. 
This was bifore the Candelmasse: the furthe dai ido: 
The King het tho Seint Thomas: and other Bis- 

chopes also, 
On this chartre sette here seles: that non aftertale nere, 
Ac thurfout al Engelond: that this custumes iholde 

" Sire, sire," quath Seint Thomas: "for Godes love 

thin ore! 
" To consailli ous bet jif ous furst: er we speke more." 
So that respit was i5yve: and ech wende in his side: 
Seint Thomas nom his transcrit : and nolde no leng abide. 
To Winchestre he wende thanne: with sorwe and care 



Hou he my5te holi churche: schulde fram his WOU3. 
Whan other men Avere faste aslepc: he wep and sijte 


And bad God helpe liolichurche: and cride him milce 

and ore. 
He sej ther nas bot o wei: other he nioste stif beo, 
Other holi churche was bynethe: mid rijte that was so 

Carful he was and sori: that he toe on so, 
Forto entri in answare: ther ne scholde non do; 640 
That he afeng the transcrit: and furst hadde ibede, 
For him tho3te al holi churche: he misdude in the stede. 
For holi churche ne scholde no5t: in none stede stonde 

to dome, 
Ne answere to kyng ne prince: bote the pope of Rome. 
The deol that Seint Thomas makede: no tonge telle 

ne may: 
"Louerd!" he seide, "alias, alias: that ich evei'e ise3 

this day! 
"That ich, the warde of holi churche: so folliche 

scholde take, 
" So freo as heo was er: so tlieu nou hire make! 
" Heo that was so freo and 1163: bi myn ancestres daye, 
" That ich scholde hire bynethe bringe: (alias) and so 

bitraye! ^50 

" For this martirs that fele were: for hire to dethe ido, 
"And heo is thu thurf me ymaked: alias! whi dude 

ich evere so? 
" Unworth ich am of holi churche: wardeyn forto 

" And of unworthe therto ynome: as meni man niai 

" For ynam (as ri3t were): fram non ordre ynome. 


"Acfram Kinges court to holi churclie: uvele wokle 

hit bicome! 
" Of houndes ich was and hauekes: vvardeyn with the 

" And wardeyn am of soules nouthe: that ne vieth 

" Ich, that forsoc myn owe soule: the while ich was 


" So nieni soulen habbe to loke: aUas what do ich her! 

" Ich doute that God me habbe forsake: hou tok ich 

on? alias!" 661 

The deol that makede this holi man: withoute ende 

evere hit was. 
He wep and si3te ni5t and dai: he huld him silve for- 

And if he mi3te asoilled beo: to the Pope he wolthe 

So he wende toward Canterbury: sone the Kyng me 

That tharchebischop nolde: no5t his statutz holde. 
To the see he wende: toward Rome: that no man hit 

Bote tueye that he tok with him: that of his consail 

mest wiste. 
Siththe whan his men him miste: and nuste whar he 

Andse3ethatlii were louerdles: ech of hem his red nom. 
Forto do everech his beste: to wende ech in his side, 
As men that were louerdles: and nuste nojt wher 
abide. 672 


This lioli man wcnde forth: and dude him into schip 

And wende forthward in the see: as he tho5te to done. 
The wynd com, as oure Louerd hit wolde: and drof 

hem aje to londe, 
Siththe he wende him eft into the see: passage forto 

The wynd him drof eft aje: and 5iit in he wende, 
And evere he was a5en idryve: as oure Louerd the grace 

Tho isej wel this holi man: that hit nas nojt Godes 

That he the 3ut of londe Avende: he turnde a3e wel 

stille. 680 

On of his serjantz sat anijt: the while tliat men woke, 
In his in at Canterbury: the chambre forto loke. 
In theveninge he bad his knave: the dore to steke 

The knave wende toward the dore: and his e3en aboute 

Tho sej he Seint Thomas: in an hurne stonde, 
He orn and tolde his maister fore: and thonkede Godes 

The serjant ne leovede hit nojt: ac natheles up he aros, 
And fon Seint Thomas in an hurne: sumdel him agros. 
Ther was sone joye and blisse: that folc to him drouj, 
And wolcome him and makede feste: with joye and 

blisse ynouj. 690 

Hi leidebord and spradde cloth: and gonne to sopi faste. 
Seint Thomas wel myldeliche: tolde hem atte laste, 



Whocler he tho5t6 habbe iwende: and what cas God him 

And hou hit nas no5tGodes wille: that he the 3utwende. 
Tethinges to the Kynge come: hou this gode man 

Seint Thomas, 
A5en the statutz of Clarendone: of londe iwende was. 
For the statut was, that no bischop: scholde for non 

Withoute leve of the Kynge: out of londc wende. 
The King sende anon his men: to seisi al his lond, 
Andtharchebischopriche also: as traitours, in his bond. 
The baillifs come to Canterbury: as hi ihote were; 
Tho hi wende habbe here wille: hi fonde Seint Thomas 

there. ^"O 

Nothing ne mi5ten hi seisi tho: than? wei hi hadde 

As hi come hi wende a3e: and tolde the Kinge fore. 
3ut Seint Thomas thojte eft: forto fondi more, 
If he mi3te habbe of the Kinge: betere milce and ore. 
He 3arkede him wel mykleliche: and to him thane 

wei noni, 
He fond him at Wodestoke: and to him thider he com. 
As his urliche louerd: he grette him faire ynou3, 
TheKyng bihuld him al anhoker: and scornliche som- 

del I0U3. 710 

"Thomas," he seide, " hou goth this: beo we so grete 

" That we ne mowe beo in one londe: Thomas, hou 

schal this gon?" 
" Sire, sire," quath Seint Thomas: " so ne schal hit 

nevcre l)eo. 


"Ac God sencle lioli churclie: betere grace to the. 
"And sende the wille to loven hire bet: and God for 

his mi3te. 
" Ne lete me nevere a5en thi wille: do thing mid 

This Archebischop of Canterbure: fondede forto bringe 
Acord and love, bi his poer : bituene him and theKynge. 
The King swor anon his oth: that non other acord he 

Bote the statutz of Clarendone: ech bischop holde 

scholde ; ' ^^ 

And nameliche tlieo for alle other: if a clerk hadde 

And forfeloun iproved were: and for theof also, 
That me scholde him anon desordeynen: and siththe, 

thurf lawe, 
The Kinges baillyf delyvri him: to anhonge other to 

Seint Thomas ise3 wel tho: that ther nas weibote on; 
Other he moste withstonde: other his rijtes forgon. 
He thojt that holi churche: he nolde nevere bitraye, 
And that he nolde nevere in suche servage: bringe hire 

bi his daye. 
Rathere he wolde, as othere were: to martirdom beo ido, 
Than holi churche were to bynethe: iredi he was therto. 
Nevere ne mi5te the King and he: nothing acordi 

there, ^-^^ 

Ac departede al in wraththe: as hi dude ofte ere. 
The King him makede wroth ynou5: that so ofte in 

baret Avas, 



For man that him withsede: and non other a5en him 

In grete wraththe he swor his oth: that he wohle of 

him beo awrcke, 
If he nioste abide the dai: and with tunge speke. 
He let somni Seint Thomas: the nexte Thursdai that 

ther were, 
Before Seint Lukes dai, at Norharaptone: to 5eve him 

ansuere there. 
Andalle the Bischops of the lond: and the Bai'ouns also, 
He het to beo ther thulke dai: al his heste to do. '"^ 
Seint Thomas londes ek: in his bond hi nome. 
As to distreigny him: that to his court he come. 
Nou God helpe Seint Thomas: for other help nadde 

he non. 
Among so meni tirantz to come: that alle were his 

Bodi and soule he bitok: lesus Godes Soue, 
And at his dai isumned: he wende to Norhaniptone. 
In the castel sat the curt: bifore the tirantz echone, 
This holi man a Godes name: wende among hem one. 
" Sire King," he seid6, " God the loke; and sauve thi 

dignetfi I 
" Isumned ich am to this dai: to answere to ll c. '50 
" Archebischop of Canterbure: nas nevere isumned so; 
" Ne distreigned of nothing: ynot what thu thenjst do. 
"Inot what is thi nue lawe: that thu gynst forth to 

"Bote hit beo on of Clarendone: that tlui then5f-t 

bringe to lawe. 


" On me nastou poer non: such distresce to do, 

" Imaked icli am wardeyn of lioli churche: tlie5 yiie 

beo nojt worthi therto. 
" Tin gostlich fader ich am: the5 tliu of me lute lete; 
"Hit nas nevere ordre that the sone: the fader schulde 

" Ne that the disciple beote his maister: al this were 

aje lawe. 
" Al this (ho so ri3t bihalth): thu gynnest forth to 
drawe. ''^^ 

"And the Bischops also god: that wardeyns beoth 

mid me, 
"To holde thonur of holi churche: and the he5e 

" Beoth aboute hire to schende: and bringe to vylte, 
"Nou God 3yve holi churche: betere grace to the! 
"If thuwolt ou5t toward me: thu west wel ynemai 

no3t fi3te, 
" Irediicham the deth to afouge: for holi churche ri3te." 
" Inele no man," quath the King: "for holi churche 

"Beau sire, thu spext as a fol: another thu most 

"Com to morwe to speche tyme: that thu thane dai 

ne breke; 
" And ich wole of other thinges: thanne to the speke." 
Thus ther departede the court: amorwe thane Fridai, 
Seint Thomas wende thider a3e: tho he thane tyme 


isay. "" 

The King sat anhe3 on his cee: and acopede him faste. 


" Thu were," he seitle, " mi Chanceler: alto longe liit 

" Icli the lende vyf hontlred pound: and thu ne 3olde 

nojt on: 
" Sete me therof a schort dai: and thu me schalt paye 

" Sire," quath Seint Thomas: " God sende ous bet 

thin ore! 
" Ine wende not of thulke pans: 3ulde acountes no 

"For ich hadde thulke tyme: betere grace of ynouj, 
" Of the, than ich habbe nou: and that me thin5th is 

WOU3. '8t5 

" Gode grace ich hadde to the: thu me lovedest ynou 

" And thulke pans thu jeve me: and 5ut thu %y oldest 

wel mo. 
" Wel ich am therof iknowe: that ich hem feng of the; 
" And of thi jifte with gode hurte: for sikere thu ^ave 

hem me. 
"And so hc5 man as thu ert: hit mi3te wel bco stille, 
" To axi a thing that thu 3eve er: witli thi gode wille." 
Tlie King him eschte if eni man: thulke 3ifte isay, 
And whar he mi3te the 3ifte prove: " Sire," he seide, 

" nay." 
"Nou lordlings," quath the King: "wel 3c luu-ctli 

" Of the gareisounhe is iknowe: that ich him bitok,iwi9: 
" Ac the 5iftc ne mai he provi no3t: as 30 mowe alle 

iseo. ''^i 


" Jugement icli axi of this curt: liou hit mai therof beo." 
The court him lokede, as he was: iknowe of the thinge, 
That he schukle al the catel: 5ul(le to the Kinge. 
The King him het the pans jelde: other sikernisse 

him make; 
Other his marschal scholde his bodi: into prisoun take. 
Seint Thomas of his bischopriche: hadde wel lute god: 
As helples man among his fon: withoute consail he stod. 
The marschals iredi were: to prisoun him lede anon: 
Hi heten him sikernisse fynde: other he scholde with 
hem gon. 800 

This holi man nuste other red: bote suffrede alle here 

Somme gode men that tlier stode : hadde of him ruthe 

Vyf Knyjtes nome hem to rede: and wende to the 

And nome anhond for Seint Thomas: al that ilke 

Ech of hem an hondred pound: for this holi man to 

Tho was he al quyt ynouj: as to thuike daye. 
Amorwe thane Saterdai: a5en to court he wende, 
Forto hure the Kynges wille: if his hurte wolde 

The King sat adoun in his see: Seint Thomas tofore 

him stod. 
"Belami! thu hast," (quath the King): "istole me 
moche ffod. ^'o 


" To longe thu were mi Clianceler: and haddest in thin 

" Abbeyes and biscliopriches: and the more del of mi 

*' And ne 5ulde me noneaccountes: therof me rueth sore, 
"That of thritti thousend pound: thu schalt me and 

"Therfore make the jare inouj anon: thine accountes 

to 3ukle, 
" For siker thu beo, thu schalt hit do: if ich mai the 

Alle that ihurde this demande: in gret wonder hi 

stode there; 
And seide among hem ech to other: that hi ne hurde hit 

never ere, 
And that Seint Thomas was albynethe: and that he 

upe the poyntc was, 
To beo icast in prisoun: and non other wei ther nas. 
Seint Thomas stod in thojte longe: of that the King 

him hadde ised, 821 

And bad he moste him conseilli: and tlierof nyme his 

The Bischopes he nom to consail: the King ne wornde 

him nojt: 
In a chambre faste iloke: alle hi were ibrou5t, 
That hi ne scholde aseapic no3t: er hi respounse sede. 
" Nou lordhngs," quath Seint Thomas: " hcrof 30 

mote me rede. 
"For so God bringe me out of care: yn abbe therof 

gult nou; 


" Ac me to scliencle he axetli hem: mid unrijte echon. 
"Forich was er mid him wel ynouj: and that me 

bringeth nou in teone; 
" Thei'fore ne tok ich no witnisse: of that ous was 

bitnene." 8ao 

The Bischop Henri of Wynchestre: furst bigan him 

"Sire," he seide, "thus me thinjth: thu mi3t do of 

this dede. 
" Thu mijt sigge that thulke tyme; that thu were mid 

the Kynge, 
"Ne tho thu wendest of his baillie: he ne axede the 

no thinge; 
" And thu afoiige the bischopriche: so clene and so freo, 
" Tliat thu of non other thing: ne sclioklest icliarged 

" And quath the quit al clenliche: eche other cure ther. 
"And the neschte nothing of node: that tliu haddest 

ido er. 
" Whar thurf me thin3th that of nothing: thu ne schalt 

ansuere no5t, 
" Bote to wardi holi churche: of alle othere tliu ert 

ibrojt." 810 

The Bischop Gilbert of Londone: seide tlio his avys. 
" Sire," he seide, " if thu thein3st: as god man and 

"What god the King the hath ido: and to what peer 

" And hou lute god ther wole come: of such wonder 



"And in which wo thu bringest ous alle: and holi 

churche also, 
"And peryl of thyn owe bodi: bote thu his wille do; 
"If thu al this understode: me thencheth, ivvis, 
" That thu scholdest fondi hitn to paye: elles thu dost 

Tho seide the Bischop of Wircestre: " Sire Gilbert, 

beo stille! 
" We suspendieth such consail: for hit nis no5t worth a 

spille." 850 

The Bischop Hillari of Chichestre: bigan to spekg tho: 
" Sire," he seide, "mi consail is: hou so hit evere go, 
"In faire manere to fonde: to paye this Kinges wille, 
" With faire biheste forte eftsone: that hit were stille. 
" Thanne we mi3te, whan we were: of this destresce 

" The bet cheve of oure consail: for nou ne do we 

The Bischop Robert of Lincolne: radde wel therto: 
" Sire Archebischop," he seide: "for Gode thu must 

do so. 
" Other thu lust thi bischopriche: other peraventure 

thi lyf; 
" And thanne thu bijetest lute: (me thin3th) with thi 

strif." 860 

The Bischop Bartholomeu: bigan to siggehis tho5t: 
"In sorwe of the wordle: and care we bcotli ibrojt. 
" Betere hit were that on hcved: in peryl him brojte, 
" Than holi cliurche were byncthe: and ibrojt to 



The Bischop Roger of Wircestre: longe in tho3te 

"Inele" Jie seide " sigge on no other: for ynot what 

is god. 
" If ich rede forto abowe: to the Kynges wille, 
" Mi owe mouth mi soule demeth: al holi churche to 

" Ac if ich rede a5en him beo: in this place som is, 
" That wole telle the Kinge fore: and make him mi fo, 

iwis." 870 

Bi the Bischop of Londone: thulke word he sede, 
That ajen Seint Thomas was: midword and middede. 
Therfore he seide " on no other: ynelle sigge, iwis: 
" God consail God ous jeve: for al neod hit is." 
Hi alle ne coutlie this consail: bringe to god ende; 
Ne devise hi mi3te best: out of chambre wende. 
Atte last this consail al: moste npe Seint Thomas gon: 
Tuei Eorles of the Kinges hous: he let clipie anon. 
"We habbeth," he seide, "lordlings: ispeke of this 

"And as furforth as we mowe: we wolleth paye the 

Kinge. ^'^'^ 

"And for we nabbeth al iredi her: oure consail clene, 
" Forte nexte dai we biddeth furst: that 30 granti ous 

nou ene." 
Tho that furst was igranted: and ech wende in his weye, 
Meni of Seint Thomas men: levede him for eye; 
And Kni3tes that were ek with him: al framward him 

Seint Thomas nom bi the wci: pore men ynowe. 


And ladde hem lioin to his in: and to the mete hem 

And servede hem his owe bodi: and mete ynouj hem 

"This beoth,'- he seide "gode knyjtes: other men 

me habbeth forsake; 
" Thuse knijtes ich lovie more: to hem ich wole take." 
The Sonedai there nas no court iholde: for the hej? 

day: 8fl 

The Monedai Seint Thomas: sore sik lay. 
The the uvel of mandeflanc: that ofte to him com; 
And for the care that he was inne: we\ the worse him 

Me seide him makede him sek: for he ne therste forth 

Tlie King in gret wraththe ynouj: after him let sende. 
" Wei 36 seoth," quath Seint Thomas: " that ynemai 

come no3t: 
" Ac certes tomorwe ich wole: hou so ich beo thider 

" Thej ich scholde beo thider ibore: in barewe other 

in here, 
" Thider ich wole, thurf God(?s grace: God me helpe 

there!" , 900 

Amorwe thane Tuesdai: oure Louerd him gan arere, 
Thane morwe after Seint Lukes dai: as hit ful in the 

Thulke dai he aujte understonde: and meni another 

For bi custume al his anuy: bi Tuesdai com him to. 


Alle the Bischopes thaneTuescIai : erliche to him wende: 
" Sire," hi seicle, " in feble poynt tliu ert: God thi stat 

amende ! 
" We habbeth therof with one mouthe: oure redynome 

echon ; 
" We redeth the to paye the King: hou vso hit evere gon; 
"Other we wolleth the here anhond: that thu ert his 

"And forswore, whan thu swore: to don him urthlich 

honur, 910 

"And dost him nou a tricherie: as he th^ wole here 

" And bynyme thi stat bicas: and bringe the of thi 

"Mi leove bretheren," quath Seint Thomas: " je sig- 

geth wel echon, 
" That al the wordle gret on me one: and alle beoth 

myne fon; 
"And, that is mest reuthe 3ut of alle: 36 that myne 

bretheren beoth, 
"And me (thej ich sinful beo): 30ure fadere in tur- 

ment iseoth, 
" And beoth myne meste fon of alle: and also beoth 

" In seculer court me to deme: and that nele no3t wel 

" For 3e habbeth among 3U, this tuei dayes: bispeke 

that Home. 919 

" Nou God helpe holi churche: and nym6 thertogome! 
" Ac in obedience ich 3U hote: that 3e ther ne3nebeo. 


" If ich am ibron3t to juggment: ac ratliere that 36 fleo. 
"And if eni man hond on me set: ich 3011 hote also, 
" That 3e sentence of holi churche: for suche vio- 
lence do; 
"And holdeth up the ri5tes of holi churche: that 30U 

beoth bitake, 
"For yne schal for no drede of deth: hire ri3tes 

Tho Bischopes were tho wroth ynou5: and wende 

to court echone. 
Nou God helpe Seint Thomas: for he was alone! 
Bote the Bischop of Wynchestre: ther ne bilevede 

with him not on, 
And the Bischop of Salesbury: that nere fram him 

agon. 930 

Seint Thomas triste al to God: and greithede him anon. 
And song a masse of Seinte Stevene: er he com among 

his fon. 
He song ofte thulke masse: for, as heo doth bigynne, 
The furste office is propre ynou: to the stat that he 

was inne. 
The bigynning of thulke masse: in Anglisch is 

" For whan princes habbe isete: and a3e me ispeke, 

"And lithere men pursuede me: Louerd, myn help 

thu beo!" 
Meni seide that tliis ihurdc: herbi me mai iseo, 
That he singeth the masse for than one: for tlie King 

and for his; 


For he halth hem alle lithere men : that ajen him spek- 

eth, iwis. 9io 

This word com to court. sone: wher thurf hi were 

In the more angusse a3en him: and the more his fon. 
Andsomme of theKinges conseillers: to him ofte vvende, 
And seide, bote he hulde him stif: al his lond he 

If he grantede Seint Thomas: at thulke tyme his 

His poer in his londe were: nevereft worth a fille; 
Bote lete the clergie al iworthe: and holde him silve 

And clerkes di3te al his lond: and al hisreaume aspille; 
And atte laste hi here owe wille: maki kinges and 

And so schulde ech king after him: his franchise leose: 
Therfor he moste him wel bithenche: and ne flecchi 

nojt. 951 

Suchg wordes and meni other: apeirede moche his 

Tlio Seint Thomas hadde his masse ido: his cheisible 

he gan of weve, 
And alle thother vestimentz: he let on him bileve. 
Other armure nadde he none: for holi churche to 

God almi3ti beo his help: bi daye and bi njjte! 
Forth wende this gode knijt: among alle his fon: 
Nou swete lesu beo his lielp: for other help nadde 

he non! 


Tlie croice he bar on his hond: and ai'erde up his 

The Bischop Robert of Herforde: anon wende him ner. 
"Sire," he seide, " ich crie thin ore: thi chapeleyn 

make thu me! -"51 

" Bifore the let me bare thi croice: for hit ne falleth 

no5t to th^." 
" The while ich hire here," quath Seint Thomas: " and 

tofore me iseo, 
Ine doutie of no man: the hardiere ymai beo." 
Tho seide the Bischop of Londone: that everewas his 

" Ine rede nojt that thu: tofore the Kinge so go. 
"For wraththe he wolde anon: awreke him in the 

"Ich bitake me," quath Seint Thomas: "al to Codes 

" 56, al thi lyf," quath this other: " a fol thu hast ibeo, 
" And that neltou nevere bileve: as me mai nou 

iseo." !>"0 

Seint Thomas thus, with his croiz: into court gan gon: 
Tho he sej him come so: he wraththede liim anon. 
" Lordlings," he seide, " her 3e seoth: hou this man me 

" In wliiclie manere is he in this court: among ous 

"As yne bileovede nojt in Cristendom: nc in oure 

Louerdcs name. 
"Ne mot ich nede awreke beo: whan he me doth such 



Tlio seiJe al the court anon: " Sire, 30 mowe iseo, 
" That he is prout and contcokour: and evere hath 

" And in despyt of the and thyne: this dede he hath 

" And, if thu wolt, thu mijt beo war: eft to take on so, 
" To bringe in so gret poer: such on as he is, ^^i 

" To tlie hejiste of thi h)nde: as thu makesthim, iwis. 
" Therfore we ne bymeneth the nojt: for thu noldest 

beo iwar bifore, 
" That we sigge alle bi him: that he is purliche for- 
" As bi a such man, do bi him: and as bi on of thi fon ; 
" For he swor the urthHch onur: and he ne doth the 

The bedeles and other schrewen: on him grenede faste; 
And ibide the Kinges heste: in prisoun him to caste. 
The King let crie anon aboute: if eni so wod were, 
That Seint Thomas consaillede: and cumpaignye here ; 
Ac as the Kinges traitour: me scholde him nyme anon. 
Nou swete Jesus beo his help: among alle his fon! ^f*2 
The Bischop of Excestre: to Seint Thomas ful akneo, 
" Merci," he seide, "for Godes love: for sore we thu 

mijt iseo. 
"Have reuthe of the and of ous: other thu wolt ous 

alle schende. 
" We wortheth alle ibroujt to nojt: bote thu thi tho3t 

" Sire Bischop," quath Seint Thomas: " thu niijt as 

wel beo stille; 



"Gohunnes; of the lie kepe yno3t: do ecli man liis 

The Bischops wende to gadere alle: and here consail 

And tho he hadde here forme iset: to the Kinge hi 



" Sire," hi seide, " anuyed thu ert: and ous hit oftliink- 

eth sore: 
" For3if ous that ^e ous bereth anhond: and we ne 

schulle misdo nomore. 
" TVel we witeth hit is a wrecche: that schokle oure 

chief beo: 
" Fals he is, and forswore: and that ech man mai iseo. 
" For he swor to liokle the urthliche oiiur: and hath 

ibroke liis oth, 
" And that we schulle proven wel: ne beo he no3t so 

" Foi'jif ous thi wrathtlie, we the biddeth: and to Rome 

we woleth wende, 
" To bynyme him his bischoprichc: and as a wrecche 

him schende. 
"Forswore we woleth liini provi: sire, bi 30ure 

The King bihet hem gret honur: for do thulke dcde. 
To Seint Thomas, ther as he was: hi wende alle 

anon; if^H 

Tlie Bischop Ilillari of Cliicliestre: tolde for hem 

" Sire," he seide, "oure gostliche fader: thu Avcreher 



" Ac for fader nou we forsaketli the: for tliu crt fals 

and forswore. 
" For thu swore him urthlich honur: and nelt him 

do non, 
"Therfore to the court of Rome: we biclipieth hit 

Nou, swete lesus, beo his help: whan alle othere were 

The King let clipie faste: that he come forth anon. 
The Eorl Robert of Leicestre: and othere menion, 
Come after him, and hete him sone: bifore the Kinge 

gon. lo--^o 

" liOrdUngs," quath Seint Thomas: " ^e witeth wel 

" Hou wel ich was w[i]th the Kinge: thej ich have nou 

lither iwon. 
" Archebischop he makede me: to sothe, a3e mi wille: 
" For icli dradde for unconnynge: mi soule to aspille. 
" Tho eschte ich tofore al that folc: in whiche manere 

hi hit me toke, 
"The maistrie of holi churche: to wardi and to loke. 
" He me tok holi churche: in eche manere so freo, 
" To beo quit of al other court: and mid rijte scholde 

so beo. 
" And whan holi churche is so freo: ynele answerethe 

" Ne non other of his court: of non urthlich thinge. 
" Forgoldnepassethnojtinbounte: somocheleode,iwis, 
" As dignete of preosthod: passetli tlie lewed man 

that is. 1032 



" And his gostliche fader icli am: if he vvolde nyme 

" And hit nere nojt that the sone: his fader scholde 

" Therfore ich sigge, at o word: ynele me nothing 

" To jugement of Kinges court: ac outliche hit for- 
" And take me alto holi churche: and to non other 

" And biclipie tofore 30U alle: to the court of Rome. 
" Sauf the stat of holi churche: and mi dignete, 
" That Jesu Crist hit sauvi: whan hit ne mai nojt 

thurf me. 1040 

" And 30U bischops ich biclipie: to the court of Rome 

" That je honuryeth more an urthlich king: than 50 

God almi5ti do." 
And so thurf rijt of holi churche: out of this court 

gan wcnde, 
To bringe this cause of holi churche: tofore the Pope 

to ende. 
This holi man out of this court: wel myldeliche gan 

That King and alle that with him were: wraththede 

him anon, 
With also gretenoyse, as al the toun: biset were with 

here fon; 
This lioli man liim wendc forth: as stille as eni ston. 


Hi ne mi3te makie more cri: tlie3 al the toun were 

Than hi dude upe this holi man: that reuthehit was to 

hure. 1030 

Nou God beo this lioli manes help: for he liadde ther 

lute rewe; 
For in al his lyf he hadde: gode dawes fewe. 
Forth him wende Seint Thomas: as him uotliing ue 

For more me schende lesu Crist: tho me him to dethe 

He weith upe his palefrai: and to Ixis inne wende so: 
Unethe he mijte mid his hond: this threo thinges do, 
Blesci that folc, and here his croice: and his bridel 

The simple folc oru him aboute: with joje ynou and 

For hi wende wel he hadde ibeo: at court faste ynome: 
Hi herede moche lesu Crist: that he mijte among hem 



To his in, to Seint Andreues: he suede him faste ynouy, 
Alle the pore men witli him: to the mete he drouj; 
And seide, " Cometh forth mid me: for minefreondje 

"Inabbe nou other freond than jou: of alle men 36 

He let hem fede echone wel: ful his hous nej, 
And him silve the gladdere was: that he ham isej. 
As Seint Thomas sat atle mete: thej he no wille 



This word that oureLouerd het: his redere biforehim 

radde: — 
'' If me pursueth 30U in o toiin: into another 30 fleo." 
This holi man tliojte hi him: this word mijte wel beo: 
And tliat hit was Godes wille: into another toun 

to gon, 1071 

Anon as the godspel saitli: to fleo alle his fon. 
The hardiere he was tho: of londe forto wende, 
AYhan he mi5t ascapie wel: that God wolde the tyme 

Tho hit was toward eve: tuei serjantz ther come frani 

the Kinge, 
And sore wepinge warnede him that me wokle: to 

stronge dethe him bringe. 
For the Kinges men hadde iswore: tliurf liestc of the 

Whar so lii mi3te fjnde him: to stronge dethe him 

Seint Thomas thojte another: he let makie his bed 

In the he5e churche: bituene tuei wevedes ri3t. lo^^ 
Tho other men were alle aslepe: and noman him 

nas ne3. 
He ros him up and bihuld: on than ymage anlie3. 
He ful adoun before the weved : and on oure Louerd 

gan crie; 
And seide furst the set samcs: and siththe the letanye. 
And wepinge ech halewe bad: his hel}) forto beo, 
And at och halwc ui) aros: and sat siththe adouu 



Nou Crist in lieveiie beo his help: for neode he hadde 

therto ynouj ! 
For him was to cominge sorwe ynouj: as 36 schulle 

ihure with WOU5. 
Tho he hadde ido his priere: stilliche he gan gon, 
Alute bifore the cockes crowe: out of the churche anon; 
And wende him out of Engelonde: that noman with 

him nas, 1091 

Bote o frere of Sjmpringham: that wel privei with 

him was. 
This gode man flej al Engelond: for holi churche rijte. 
For al his wo ne 3af he no3t: if he hit amende my3te. 
The ni5t that fram Norhamptone: Seint Thomas thane 

wei nom, 
To on of his clerkes: in avisioun ther com 
A cler Yoiz, that seide: of the sauter this:* — 
'• As hit were a sparewe: oure soule ibro3t is 
" Out of the hunteres bonde: and the bond is undo, 
" And al defouled, and we: beoth delyvred so." HOO 
Of wham was this avisioun: bote of Seint Thomas, 
That out of the bendes of his fon: tho delyvred was? 
That word com of Seint Thomas: to the Kinge sone: 
The he3e men nome therof red: what hem were to 

The King and al his Baronie: and his Bischops 


* " Anima nostra sicut passer erepta est de laqueo venantium. 
Laqucus contritus est et uos libcrati sumus." — f Psalm cxxiv.) 
This Latin quotation is in the margin of the Ilarleiau MS. 


That au3te with Seint Thomas beo: and were mest 

his fou, 
To his consail everechone: assentede attan ende, 
That the King scholde of his hejiste men: to the 

court of Rome sende, 
A5en him whan he thider com: and the Pope do 

That he is fals and forswore: and desturbour of the 

londe 1110 

And to do this grete neode: the wiseste men forth nome, 
And that the King were al in pees: forte he aje come. 
The Archebischop of Everwjk: and the Bischop of 

To Rome wende for thisse neode: and the Bischop of 

The Bischop ek of Londone: and of Wircestre also, 
And grete Eorles and Barouns: and clerkes therto, 
To here witnisse of this falshede: whan hi to courte 

Noble jiftes and gewels: mid hem also hi nome: 
For therwith me mai ofte at court: the ri3te bringe to 

W0U3. 11''-' 

Nou Crist helpe this pore man: for he was pore ynouj! 
None 3iftes he nadde to 5yve: to holde up his ri3te: 
Fram Norhamptone bar he 3eode: for holi churchc to 

Fram Seint Andreues in Norhamptone: this holi man 

forth wende, 
AN'ith a frere of Sinipriughum: as oure Loucrd the 

grace sende. 


Vyf and tuenti mile he wende: to the toiin of Grii[nt]- 

Er he stiiite meni stede: with the frere of Simpringham. 
Al northward he drouj him forth: and framward the 

That the Kinges men ne founde him nojt: to nyme ne 

to sle. 
Siththe he wende fram Gra[nt3ham: fyve and tuenti 

myle also, 112'J 

To the cite of Lincolne: er he wolde him to reste do. 
The morwe upe Seint Lukes dai: Tuesdai hit was tho, 
He departede fram the Kinges court: in suche sorwe 

and wo. 
Thane Wendesdai ani3t: out of the toun he nom; 
Sone amorwe thane Thursdai: to Lincolne he com. 
At a walkeres hous: his in he nom there; 
Alle gate he nom his wei: hi nijte that he awaited nei'e. 
In watere he dude him at Lincolne: er God thane dai 

And thane Fridai fourti myle: al bi water he wende, 
To an hermitage of Simpringham: that amidde the 

watere is: 
Ther he levede hardiliche: threo dayes, iwis. I'^^o 

To Seint Botolf siththe he wende: that thanncs was 

ten myle; 
And ther he dude him eft in watere: and com, in a 

lute while, 
To the hous of Haverolt: that of Simpringham ek is. 
The frere him ladde bi thulke hous: the sikerer to beo, 



Therhanne he wende to Eystrie: his owe manerc mid 

The Archebischop of Canterbury: if he were of mijte; 
That was nej the see ynouj: he abed wel there; 
Lokede forto passi: whan best tjme wei'e. 
Sovenijt he bilevede ther: forto Alle .Soulen day, 
In chambre rijt bi the churche: dai and nijt he lay; 
That noman ne schokle him under3ete: ne war of him 

beo. 1151 

Thurf the churche wal he makede an hoi: the sacringe 

forto seo; 
And forto hure ther his masse: that hi, that to churche 

Nuste nojt that he was so ne5: ne toke therof no gome. 
Such an anker he was bicome: Louerd, that him 

was wo, 
Archebischop of Canterbury: that ne therste among 

none men go! 
An Alle Soulen dai, thane Tuesdai: er God thane 

dai sende. 
He bitok God al holi churche: and into the see wende. 
Hi rcwe forth al thane dai: forte ajen theveninge, 
A myle hi aryvede: fram the havene of Graveninge. 
Oye me clipeth the stede: as he com to londe, noi 
In the lond of Flandres: as ich understonde. 
Forth he moste, this holi man: hors nadde he non; 
For al his bischopriche: afote he moste gon. 
And that noman him ne knewe: thabit of frere he 

And as a frerc lurlh he 5Code: thu he tu Fhiiidrcs com. 


Blak was his cope above: his cartel whit Wanket; 

Upe his rug his cope he bar: foi'to go the bet. 

The reyn was gret and swithe strong: the wei was 

deope ynouj: 
So weri was this holi man: that unethe his Ijmes he 

drouj. 1170 

So weri lie was of the wei: and of the see bifore, 
That he sat adouu and ne mijte no fur: bote he were 

Tho 5eode forth on of his men: and hurede him a 

For an Englisch peni, with an halter: this holi man 

to bere. 
This holi man his clothes nom: and upe this mure 

hem caste, 
And werth upe above his clothes: and rod forth wei 

A! weilawai! such a man: moche is Godes mijte! 
So febliche vvende over lond: for uvele was hit his 

Uvele bicom him to gon afote: other upe a suchebest 

to ride. 117» 

Holi churche he aboute dure: that me tijth on wide. 
With this haltereupe this mure: forth rod this holi man. 
As a frei'e, and let him clipen: frere Cristian. 
For he nolde lie nojt: Cristene he was; 
And he was adrad to beon iknowe: if me clipede him 

At a god manes hous: his in a nijt he nom. 
He sat atte hordes ende: as him nojt wei bicom; 


And his men sete alle withinne: as he the loweste were: 
The oste nom wel gode jeme: hou hi hem alle here. 
He nom jeme of this holi man: atte hordes ende, 
Hou mylde he was atte boi'de: and curteysand hende. 
Hou curteisliche he delde his mete: to hem that tofore 

him stode, l''*l 

And hou lute him silf he at: mid wel simple mode. 
His lymes also he bihuld: hou gent hi were and freo; 
Ilonden faire, with longe fyngres: fairere ne mijte 

none beo. 
His face long and brod also: his frount large ynouj; 
And bifore alle thothere evere to him: his hurte mest 

Of tharchebiscliop of Cantex'bury: he gan him under- 

That hit was couth into al that lond: that he Avas 

iwend of londe. 
His hurte him jaf that hit was he: in gret studie he 

was ibro3t; 
He rounede in his wyves ere: and tolde hire al his 

th05t. 1300 

His wyf, after thulke tyme: that sothe also tho5te, 
Heo scrvede this huli man: and of deyntcs him brojte. 
Applen, peres, and notes ek: heo fondede in cche 

Among alle this other men: to gladie this seli frere. 
Heo bilevede to servi othere: and upe him was allure 

thojt ; 
Seint Thomas hit iinder5et: and nc paide him with 



So that he bihuld aboute: anon after soper. 
Wei myldeliche he bad his hoste: forto com him ner, 
And to sitte bi him adoun: and solaci him astounde. 
" Sire, merci!"quath this other: "ich wole sitte upe the 

grounde." ^'^"^ 

He sat adoun at his fet: Seint Thomas him bad arise: 
"Certes, sire," quath this other: yneschal in none 

"Nolde God that ich bi the sete: Louerd! ihered 

thu beo, 
" That thu mostest in myne house come: and ich thane 

dai iseo." 
" Lute deynt^," quath Seint Thomas: " of such a pore 

" A seli frere as ich am: ihote Cristian." 
"Sire, thin ore," quath this other: "welich under- 

" Archebischop thu ert of Canterbure: iwend out of 

" Whi saistou so?" quath this other: "thu hast selde 

" Tharchebischop of Canterbury: in suche manere 

ride bi weye." l^^o 

"Sire," quath this other, "thu hit ert: as me saith 

mi thojt, 
" Ich bidde the for the love of God: ne forsak hit a3e 

me no5t." 
Seint Thomas him bithojte: that other he moste lie. 
Other beo iknowe that he hit was: so thotlier on him 

gan crie. 


Atte laste he was iknowe: ac amorwe he nom 

His hoste, and bad that he ne wreide him nojt: er he 

afur wei com. 
He wende him forth wel er dai: in wel foule weye; 
Tuelf myle he jeode grete y nouj : to a grei abbey e, 
That me clipeth Clermareys: of greye monekes, iwis, 
That biside the castel: of Seint Omer is. 1230 

To thabbey of Seint Bertin: frani thanne he wende, 
And ther he levede til oure Louerd: other tithinge 

him seude. 
The Bischops of Engelonde: and the Barouns also, 
Toward the court of Rome wende: her erande for to do. 
To the King of France hi wende: and lettres with 

hem here, 
Fram the King of Engelonde: that thus an Englisch 

were : — 
" To his louerd, thurf Godes grace: Sire Lowes the 

" Henri King of Engelonde: sent love and greting. 
" Thomas that Archebischop was: of Canterbure her- 

" Out of mi lond is awend: as traytour and forswore. 
*' Thei'fore, as myn urlich louerd: ich biddc the, bi mi 

sonde, 1211 

" That thu ne suffri no5t that he bco: rcceitcd in tlii 

The this King this bone ihurde: awhile in tho3te he 

"Certes,"he hem seide, "me thiii3th: tliis bone nis 

nojt god. 


*' So strong theof nis non in Engelond: if lie into 

France come, 
" That he ne mi3te leve ther: as me si3tli ilome. 
" Nere he iproved so strong theof: other hackle that 

lond forswore, 
" Ic ne mi5te do hit for no thing: the3 he him hadde 

ther misbore. 
'* And whatlokere scholde such an he3 man: ne come 

he no3t so sone, 
" And nother ich ne he habbeth: with oure bischops to 

done. 1250 

"For myne bischops with holi churche: ich lete here 

wille do, 
" And fairere were the King, me thin3th: lete him 

iworthe so, 
" Than entremitti of holi churche: hereri3tesfortospille, 
" And loki the pees of the lond: me thin3th he doth 

his wille." 
Ne mi3te this he3e men: non other word afonge; 
So that hi Avende forth here wei: tho hi hadde abide 

Maister Herbad of Bozam: and otliere siththe wende, 
To the King of France: as Seint Thomas hem sende; 
And tolde the King of al the wo: that Seint Thomas 

hadde with WOU3. 
The King tho he hurde this: wep and makede deol 

ynou3; 1^60 

And tolde al hou the Kinges men: were at himbifore, 
And which answere he hem 5af: here wei hi hadde 



This gode man with joye 7110113: here leve of lilm nome, 
And fram him myldeliche wende: to the court of 

For ther nere hi 005! wolcome: for the schame bifore, 
And the desdandre of Seint Thomas: that he was fals 

and forswore. 
Ac natheles grace hi hadde: that hi to the Pop come 

Him silve hi tokle in priveite: al Seint Thomas wo with 

luirijte ; 
Of the statutz of Clarendone: hou hi forth fiirst come; 
Hou he was ibro5t to Noramptone: tofore the King to 

done; 1270 

Hou he wende out of Engelonde: in which miseise 

and wo; 
And hou he changede his name: the sikerer forto go. 
The Pope bigan to sikc sore: mid wel dreori tli05t, 
The teres urne out of his ejcn: he ne mijte hem werne 

He thonkede God that such prehit: under him mijte 

So stedfifast to holi churchc: and that he mi3tc thane 

dai iseo. 
Amoi'we come the Bischops: and tlic llarouns also, 
To procuri him al the wele: tliat hi mi5te do. 
Tofore the Pope as he sat: myldeliche hi come, 
And bifore the Cardinals: atte curt of TJome. 
The Bischop of Londonc: that evcre litlier was, 
Bigan furst to telle his tale: a3e Seint Thomas. I'^so 
He stod up tofore al the court: " Beau pcre," he scdc, 


" To the we come to niene ous: of wrecchede that we 

doth lede, 
" Oure ri5t6s up to holde: alle that gode beoth, 
"And foies bringe of folie: whan we eni iseoth. 
"A distance ther is ispronge: li3tliche in Engelonde, 
" That desturbeth al that lond: with unri3t, ich under- 

*' Tharchebischop of Canterbure: al ajen oure wille, 
" A folie bigan in Engelonde: al holi churche to spille: 
" To bynyme the Kinges franchise: and his ri3tes also; 
" Ac he ne rai3te ous make for nothing: consenti therto. 
" Therfore for wraththe siththe: for we nolde his 

wille do, 1291 

" Upe ous he caste his owe gult: and upe the King 

" And atte laste, as hit were: the lond forto ablende, 
" That no man him stren3the dude: of lond he gan 

"For men that thatsothenuste: scholde understonde, 
" That the King him dude unri3t: and di-of him out 

of londe." 
Tho he hadde his tale itold: and ymaked al his wise, 
He sat adoun and the Bischop: of Cicestre gan arise. 
"Beau pere," he seide to the Pope: "me thin3th hit 

faith to the, 
"To desturbi thing that falleth: to hai-m of commu- 

neaute; 1300 

"That o man ne beo isuffred no5t: go forth with his 




" Tobringe al the lond to ^cliindisse: and lioli cliurclie 

to spille. 
'' Tliathatlioure Archebiscliop iwro3t: that is isene, iwis, 
" Whan ech man of the lond: faste a5en him is." 
The Archebischop of Everwyk: tho he his tyme ise5, 
Aros up and gan to telle: his tale, al anhe3. 
"Sire," he seide, "no man ne knoweth: so wel as 

ich do, 
" Tharchebischop of Canterbure: and tharchebischop- 

riche also. 
"The Archebischop is wilful: and whan he is alles 

"In a wil that is lute worth: he nele bileve hit nojt. 
" For man ne schal for nothing: bringe him out of his 

th03t: 1311 

" In suche fol wille is he nou: that we habbeth deore 

" Li3tliche therinne he com: and he nele bileve 

nevere mo, 
"Bote 5e pulte 30ui'e bond therto: to briuge ous out 

of wo." 
" Sire, sire," quath the Bischop: of Excestre tho, 
"This cas 30 mote amendi: hou so hit evere go. 
" If 36 ne loeveth no3t that sothe: as me doth 30U to 

" Send with ous, fot with fot: a legat into Engelonde, 
" To enqueri that sothe ther: and let him theraftcr 

" For certes, bote 30 other thenche: 3e schendeth holi 

churche." 132^' 


Tho ai'os up the Eorl of Ai-oudel : man of gret 

"Sire," he seide, "for Godes love: astounde herkne 

to me. 
" We lewede men that here beoth: ne cunne Latyn 

"Ne nothing nabbeth understonde: that ^e habbeth 

itold echon. 
" Ac in langdge that we cunne: such men as we beoth, 
" (Heje Barouns and noble Knyjtes: that je bifor 30U 

" Telle ich wole bifore 30U alle: whi we beoth hider 

"Thurf mi louerd the Kinges heste: that ous hath 

" Nojt that we wraththi eni man: other eni man sigge 

" And nameliche oure aire hevede: that oure chief is, 
" To wham al the wordle aboueth: (God holde him his 

mijte,) 1331 

" That aujte ech man jurne bidde: to holde ech man 

to rijte. 
" Ac suche kny3tes as we beoth: hider we beoth iwend; 
" Oure louerd the King of Engelonde: hider ous hav- 

eth isend, 
" To schewe furst the reverence: and the grete love 

" That he hath evere to 30U ibore: and evere thenjth 

to do; 



" And that ^e sende him word bi ous: as 50 seoth ous 

" Bischopes, Eorles, and Barouns: the he5iste of his 

" If eni hejere hadde ibeo: hider he hadde iwend, 
"As to so he3 curt as this is: hider ous he hath 

isend, 1340 

" To schewi furst in his name: as wide as the wordle is, 
" So true prince nis to Rome: ne that so moche 30U 

loveth, iwis; 
" Ne so moche honureth holi churche: and evere 

hath ido. 
" Tharchebischop of Canterbure: is noble man also. 
" That if o manere of him: as ich understonde, 
" Ther nere lend of Cristendom: ajen Engelonde, 
" Ne holi churche so wel: ischuld from eche WOU5, 
"Under swithe noble prince: and prelat god ynouj. 
" Ac the Archebischop Thomas: hath a lute wille, 
" To apeiri moche hisgodnisse: and thatlond then5[th] 

aspille. 135^ 

" His wille is such, that whan he is: icome in fol 

" He nele thurf consail ne thurf red: therof beo ibro5t. 
"In suche folic he is icome nouthe: (oure Loucrdhis 

thojt wende!) 
" Bote me mowe him therof bringe: that lond he wole 

"Therfore mi louerd the King 50U bit: that ^e with 

ous sende, 
"A legat to Engelonde: to enquere therof tlian ende. 


" Other certes he is upe the poynte: al that lond to 

" Bote 3e chasti him thurf lawe: and bynyme his fole 

Ofit' alle the clerk es that ther sete: non of hem ther 

That ne preisede moche this he3e man: for he so rena- 

ble was. 1360 

" Lordlings," quath the Pope: " 30 iseoth wel ynouj, 
" Tliat 30 to tharchebischop telleth: beo hit ri3t other 

" Ac we ne mowe no dom 3yve: both he himsilf her 

"Ne juggi no man bihynde him: for no ri3t hit nere." 
" Sire," quath th[e] Eorl of Arondel: "36 mote bet 

" A certeyn dai ous is iset: to come to Engelonde; 
" And thane dai nethore we no3t breke: for oure 

louerd the Kinge; 
" Therfore 3e mote ous grace do: somdel of thisse 

" We biddeth 30U, if hit is 30ure wille: a legat with 

ous sende, 
" And tharchebischop bote also: to Engelonde wende 
" And as the legat ther enquereth: therafter he mai 

do." 1371 

"Certes, beau frere," quath the Pope: '• ynele no3t 

take on so. 
" Inot whan tharchebischop cometh: ne what he wole 

forth drawe; 


" And to deme a man bihynden him: thu wost hit nere 

no hiwe." 
" Certes, sire," quath this other: "we nethore abide 

"Deperdeus," quath the Pope: "doth as 56 habbeth 

This othere were wroth ynou: wel faire here leve 

hi nome, 
And wende hem forth in grete wraththe: and to En- 

gelonde come. 
Seint Thomas was tho in Flandres. in huding, as 

hit were, 
In the hous of Seint Bertin: for he him abussede 

there. 1380 

Atte laste he aros bi nyjte: and out of Flandres wende, 
Al priveiliche into France: as God the grace sende. 
The King of France that tho was: Lewis, god and 

Hurde telle of this gode man: he let after him sende. 
Tho [t]hisholi man to him com: gret joje he gan make; 
He het him upon his lond: ynouj of his take, 
To spene, to him and alle his: whar so he evere come. 
Nolde Seint Thomas abide nojt: er he com to Rome. 
The King him tok spense ynouj: to him and alle his, 
And sende with him god condut: to brings him ther, 

iwis. 1390 

Tho this gode man to Rom6 com; he was faire 

And somdel the Pope was anuyed: that he abod so 



Me acusecle him of the trespas: that the Bischops 

tokle there, 
And bad him answere for his stat: and aleggi for him 

hou hit were. 
Seint Thomas wolde up arise: me bad him sitte 

Biside the Pope he sat; and seide his reisoun. 
" Sire," he seide, " ich am iset: the5 ich unworthi beo, 
" To wardi the churche of Canterbury: as 36 mowe 

"And tliej ich ne beo nojt worthi: such fol nam 

" That the King scholde thurf me: in wraththe beon 
ibrojt. 1^00 

" For if ich wolde his wille do: and paye him of alle 

" Ine ne scholde for no3t: in such contek him bringe; 
" He me wolde lovie ynou}: and al his lond, iwis, 
" Scholde at mi wille beo: and alle thing that is his. 
" Ac mi professioun ich habbe: to Jesu Crist ido; 
" And the biheste that ich habbe ymaked: ne sufTreth 

me nojt so. 
" And if ich wolde bileve: ynadde none neode, 
" To no man to go ous bituene : myn erande forto 

" Ac the churche of Canterbure: was iwoned to 

schyne wide, 
" And beo as the sonne among alle othere: of the west 
side. ^410 

" The Sonne that was so brijt: deork heo is bicome; 


"Blode clouden and stronge ynou: hire lijt liire liab- 

beth binome. 
" Overcast lieo is witli the clouden: that lijt ne jifth 

heo non; 
"Whar thurf the churchen of Engglonde: idurked 

beoth echon. 
" For a cloude hire had overcast: that heo ne mai no3t 

"The King that scholde hii'e governy: bynymeth al 

hire rijte. 
"Ich that scholde hire wardeyn beo: thera3en ich 

mot fijte, 
" And stonde aje and withsigge hire wrong: bi al myne 

" For the3 ich hadde athousend lyves: (as ynabbe bote 

" Rathere than ich vvolde tholie: 5yve ich hem wolde 

echon. 1420 

" The custumes aje holi churehe: that the King hath 

forth ibrojt, 
" Her 5e mowe hem nou ihure: if hi bcoth to granti 

He gan hem rede the lithere lawes: as he hem hadde 

He wep that the teres urne adoun: that deole hit was 

to wite. 
Tho the Pope and his Cardinals: that seje liiin wepe 

so sore, 
And ihurde ck this litliere luwes: hi ne niijtc forbere 



And wope also pitousliche: and herede God also, 
That hi mi3te finde such a prelat: over holi ciiurche ido, 
That huld hire so wel to ri3te: and ne sufFrede ne 

■WOU3 ; 
And thonkede God of such a man: andhonurede him 

ynou3. 1430 

The Pope het his clerkes alle: thurf al Cristendom, 
Withsigge suche lithere lawes: whar so eni of hem 

com ; 
And that hi nere isufFred nowhar: hou so hi come to 

And that hi deide rathere therfore; than holi churche 

lete schende, 
Tho spac him eft Seint Thomas: we]3inge wel sore, 
" Inabbe no3t so moche wo: that me nere worthe more. 
"For thurf stren3the of urthlich man: in such poer 

am ich ido, 
" Ac ich douti a3en Godes wille: that ich unworthibeo 

" Therfore God, for ri5te wreche: uvel ending me doth 

"Ac ich douti for mi wrecche gult: that wors schal 

beo the ende, i^^o 

" For mi synne and mi unmijte: that ynemai hire 

wardi no3t. 
" Therfore, that holi churche: ne beo to grounde ibro3t, 
" Ich 3yve 30U up mi bischopriche: another 3e mote 

ther do, 
" That hit mowe wardi bet: for unworthi ich am 



His ring he nom and tok the Pope: and 5uld up the 

The Pope wel deolfulliche: and wel myldehche gan 

Therof conseillede al the coui-t: what the beste red were, 
To lete him leve therchebischopriche: other to do 

another there. 
" Me thin3th," quath a Cardinal: " in such cas as this 

man is, 
" Betere hit were to do another: in his stede, iwisji^^o 
" Forto paye bet the King: and sucli cas mi5te bifalle, 
" That the King wolde bileve and aswagi: the lithere 

lawes alle. 
' For betere hit were, in faire manere: ho so hit mi3te, 

to ende bringe, 
" Than contek holde in suchc lond: and nameliche ae 

the Kinge. 
" And me mi5te purveye the gode man: as god as 

that is. 
" Tnot what conseil 50 woUeth rede: ich wole rede this." 
The seide another Cardinal: "yne rede nojtso, iwis; 
"For that wolde 3yve men ensamplc: aldai to do 

"For whan a king with a bischop: were wroth of eni 

" Anon to bringe him adoun: uvele lawes wolde bringe; 
" And so were holi churche then: that levedi scholde 

beo. itoi 

" Therfore this consail (me thinjth) is feble: a bett[e]re 

me mai iseo." 


The Pop nom tho Seint Thomas: and tok him aje 

the ring, 
To beo Archebischop foi'th: stable thurf alle thing; 
Stedefast to holde up: holi churche rijte, 
And he him Avolde ajen ech man: helpe bi his mijte; 
And he ne schokle no3t the jut: to Engelonde wende, 
Ac abide betere grace; if God wolde sende. 
To thabbei of Pontenay: to sojourni there, 
He sente this holi man: forte hit betere were. 1470 
With lutel folc, and lutel ese: ther he gan to leve; 
For he nadde silver non to spene: bote as hi him 

His men he broujte in servise: hei'e mete to wynng 

Him silve he was alone ney. he/y man thej he were. 
Lyf he werede hard jnouy. he werede harde here, 
Schurte and brech hard ynouj: hardere non nere. 
The straples were istreynd harde ynouj: with knottes 

The schurte tilde anon to his thies: the brech to his to. 
The knotten wode in his flesche: aboute in eche side: 
"Wei unese was his brech: aboute for to ride. 1^80 

Harde mijte he ligge adoun: and harde sitte also. 
Louerd! deore aboujte he hevene: wel aujte he come 

therto ! 
The Bischops of Engelonde: that ajen him were 

at Rome, 
And Eorles and othere ek: tho hi to Engelond come. 
Hi tolde the King al the cas: hou hi hadde isped. 
8o sori and wroth the King was: that he was ncj awed. 


"Alias," he seide, " tliulke traitoure: that ich habbe 

forth ibrojt! 
"That he me schal such schamfi do: ynemaihit tholie 

"Whan he fli3th out of londe: that yneraai to him 

"Ich wole me awreke of his kyn: hi schulle abugge 

some." 1490 

He let siche out al clene his freond: and his kyn echon, 
And drof hem out of Engelond: that hi ne bilevede 

n05t on; 
Sik ne feble, 3ung ne old: ne wymmen mid chylde, 
Ne chyldrene that sokinge were: moche he was un- 

In armes the moder bar the child; in here wombe 

Ther hadde the King (me thin5th): a feble wreche 

Ihauled hi were, in grete meseise: out of the lond, 

Ech god man haddc reuthe of hem: that iliurde of 

that cas. 
Among hem hi seide stilleliche: that he lither King 

More schrewede the King bitho3te: 5ut of Seint 

Thomas. i-'500 

The men that he drof of londe: were hem leof other 

He make hem swerie upon a boc: ech after other, an 



That hi ne scholde in none stede: leve, none stounde, 
Er hi come to Seint Tbomas: ther as hi him founde, 
And tolde him hou hi were: out of londe ibrojt, 
To bringe liim more in sorewe: if hi mijte turne his 

3ut he broujte a lither dede more: upe Seint Thomas; 
He let bote, thurf al the lond: as wide as his poer was, 
Tliat no man ne scholde for him bidde: in cburche ne 

As me for tharchebischop doth: and ido hath jare.l^io 
Louerd! moche was the schame tho: that holi church 

Whan heo ne moste for hire heved: among other men 

That folc of Seint Thomas freond: thicke aboute 

him drou3, 
Aldai that were iflemmid for him: in meseise and sorwe 

And wope and cride dulfulliche: and tolde him al that 

Hou lii were fram him dryve: and which here sorwe 

Seint Thomas bihuld hem dulfulliche: and gan to sike 

Natheles he makede hem fair semblant: to conforti 

hem the more; 
And sende this word to gladi hem: that men uude[r]- 

stondeth longe, ^^^^ 

" Eche lond," he seide: "is contray to the stronge. 
"As ho saith, thej 56 beo: in strange contray ibro3t, 


" If 36 beoth strong in Godes lawe: hit ne sclial 50U 

grevi nojt." 
Alle the heje men of the lond: that ihuvde that cas, 
Acursede the King, and seide: that he lither was. 
This seli men aboute him nome: for love of Seint 

And fonde hem sustenance ynou3: in meseise non tlier 

Tho the tithinge to the King: of Engelonde com,' 
That this men were undei-fonge: gret deol to him he 

"Certes," he seide, "whan ynemai: hishurte sobuye, 
"In more meseise- ich wole him bringe: that his lyf 

him schal anuye." t530 

Greye monekgs of Cisteaus: fram 3ei*e to 3ere, 
A chapitle makede general: of Abbotes that ther were; 
For monekes of ech grei abbei: to this chapitle come, 
Withinne a terme, as3ut doth: thurfout al Cristendome. 
Tho the chapitle plener was: the Kyng thider sende. 
To thabbotes plenerliclie: that to the chapitle wende; 
And sende him word that liim tho3te: wonder gret 

That Id wolde him so moche misdo: uncundeliche and 

To susteyne his withere wyne: among hem, and hisfo. 
In thehous of Ponteney: that brou3te him in such wo; 
And bote hi liim levede: and susteynede him nomore, 
Alle the greye hous of Engelonde: ofthenche scholde 

sore: lii2 

For if hi susteynede his fo: no wonder hit nere, 


The3 he wreke him of thulke hous: that in his lond 

Tho this lettres to Sisteaus: among this Abbotes come, 
Of the thretinge hi doutede sore: and gret consail 

So that hi bede Seint Thomas: his beste forto do; 
For hi ne therste, aje the Kinges wille: nomore holde 

him so. 
Tho Seint Thomas this ihurde: he gan to sike sore: 
He bad Jesus him helpe tho: and cride him milce 

and ore. 1550 

" Lordlings," he seide, "that me habbeth: susteyned 

meni o dai, 
"In mi grete neode, Jesu Crist: hit 5ulde; ynemai. 
" The King that threteth 30U so faste: if ^e me hold- 

eth longe. 
"If Crist wole, je ne schulle for me: nevere harm 

" Whar so ich evere an urthe beo : fram 30U I wole 

" That je ne beo for me apeired: oure Louerd his 

grace me sende! 
"For ich mai 3ut mi mete bidde: ynara n03t to god 

" God that fedeth the wylde best: me mai fede also. 
"Ac hou hit evere bi me bifalle: God, if hit is thi 

" Hold up the ri3t of holi churche: that heo fulliche 

ne spille!" 1560 


As this holi man in thojte stod: whoder he mi3te 

The King of France, that was so god: sone gan his 

word sende, 
That he hilevede in alhis lond: whar so his hurte best 

Cheose him silve, and lie wolde: him sende spounse 

Tlier hit soth whan a man: in mest sorwe is and 

Thanne is oure Louerdes help wel ney. as hit tho isene. 
This holi man liis leve nom: wel myldeliche and 

And sore wepinge wende forth: and 30xede and si5te 

The Abbot of Pontenay: somdel forth him brou3te; 
He axede of him whi he were: in so deolful thojte. 
" Ich wole sigge," quath Seint Thomas: "whi ieh 

carie so, 15"1 

" That thu ne telle non fore: er myn endedai beo ido. 
" Ich am siker that ich schal: [deye] in martirdom: 
" For to ni5t in mi sleping: a wonder meting me com. 
"In the churche of Canterbure: me tho5te ich stod, 

" And strivede for holi churche: ajen the King and his. 
" Tho come ther four kni5tes: and smyte me upe the 

" Ech after other, that mi brayn: schaddc on the 

grounde adoune. 
" For me ich thonki Jesu Crist: that ich schal deye so; 


" Ac for mi meyne ich sike sore: that ynot what ich 

schal do." 1580 

This holi man him wende forth: with care and deol 

bi weye, 
Forte he com to Seneouns: tuelf myle fram Ponteneye. 
Ther he levede in sojourn: as longe as he wokle: 
The King him fond to spene ynou}: of silver and of 

This holi man levede ther: in pays and rest ynou3; 
Ac evere he carede for holi churche: that me dude so 

And sende to the King of Engelond: that he lete beo 

That he ne werrede nojt holi churche: if hit were his 

Siththe the King of Engelond: as his wille him nom, 
Passede the see, as God hit wolde: and into France com. 
The King of France was aboute: (if God wold the 

grace sende,) 1591 

To acordi him and Seint Thomas: if he hit mi3te 

bringe to ende; 
So that hi were togadere ibrojt: to a dai that hi sette. 
Seint Thomas com tofore the King: and as his louerd 

him grette; 
And to his fet ful adoun: and wep and cride sore, 
"Have reuthe," he seide, "of holi churche: and ne 

werre hire nomore, 
" And ich wole do al thi wille; as ich seide er, bi mi 

^'Saf mi Louerdes honur: and holi churche ri3te." 



The King makecle him wroth ynouj for that worth; as 

he hadde ofte ibeo, 
" Nou 36 mowe," he seide, " echone: his falshede iseo. 
" For ynescholde, upe this word, do: nothing ajen his 

wille, 1601 

" That he ne scholde sigge that ich wolde: holi churche 

"And that ich were ajen Godes wille: and in suche 

man re he mijte, 
" The lond desturbi, and bynyme: mi franchise and 

mi rijte. 
" Gode bischops ther habbeth ibeo: bifore, }e wite, 

" That 5e seo mi trunisse: and that the wrong is al his. 
" As the wyseste and the beste bischops: that bifore 

s him were, 
" A3en the meste fol King: bifore me hem here, 
" Do he so a3e me: and ich paye me wel ynou3; 
" And if he is a3e this forme: me thin3th he have3 WOU3. 
" Other him thin3th, of bischops: so wys as he non nas; 
" Other he halth me the meste wrecche: that evere 

bifore this was." iei2 

Tho seide the King of France: and all that hurde this, 
" Certes thu bcodest him love ynou: the wrong is al 

Seint Thomas stod longe in tho3tc: and gan to sike 

" The3 ich have ibeo in anuy: 5ut nie is to come more. 
" If the archebischops bifore me: haddo ido here mi3te, 
"Hit nadde ibeo no neod nou: to contecki ne to fi5tc. 


"For er this, hi were stable ynou3: bi gode manes 

" And custumes ne beoth to holde nojt: if hi beoth 
aje rijte. 1620 

" And for the bischopes were to nesche: bifore me, as 

ich hit fynde, 
" Here folie ich mot nou abigge: other hit worth bi- 

" Ich wot wel ther habbeth ibeo bifore: custumes in 

"Ac ajen rijte hi beoth: as ich understonde. 
" The3 hi longe isuffred beo: and to custumes idrawe, 
" Ther ne mai no man to sothe sigge; that hit beo rijt 

ne lawe. 
"For oure Louerd loveth soth and rijtnisse: and uvele 

custumes rijt nojt, iwis; 
" And that he scheweth bi a word: that in the god- 

spel is: 
"For oure Louerd him silf him eveneth: to sothnisse 

" Ac he ne eveneth him nowhar to custumes: for aje 

rijt hit were. 1630 

" Therfore me thinjth that hit is rijt: that we to soth- 
nisse drawe, 
"And uvele custumes desturbi: that beoth aje lawe. 
" Therfore yuele none custumes: suffri, bi mi mijte, 
" That ajen sothnisse beoth: and holi churche rijte. 
" Her me mai iseo that none uvele lawes: no god man 

ne schal afonge, 
" Ac desturbi bi al his mi5te: thej hi beo holde longe. 



" For he that susteneth uvele lawes: as wel he haveth 

the sinne, 
"Bote if he hem alegge, if he mai: as he that hem 

doth byg[i]nne." 
Tho the King of France ihurde this: and othere that 

ther were, 
That Seint Thomas this withseide: nothing apaid hi 

nere. I'^'O 

" Sire Archebischop," he seide: " ich ihure wel thi 

" The King the beodeth love ynouj : the strif is on the 

"That woldest bynyme his lawes: that nere nevere 

" And habbeth ibeo iholde of Kinges: that biforehim 

" Gret maister thu woldest alonde beo: to moche were 

thi poer; 
" To moche ich have honured the: in mi londe her. 
"Bote thu grantie the ri5te lawes: bicome ich wole 

thi fo; 
"And if we beoth thine fon bothe: ynot whoder thu 

wolt go." 
Seint Thomas huld him evere in on: the Kinges were 

And departede fram him so: in grete wrathe bothe. 
Hi stode and makede noyse ynouj: Seint Thomas he 

stod stille: 1651 

For rather he wolde thang deth: than here lithcre 



Nou helpe Crist this holi man: for neocle lie haclde tho! 
Nou bothe the Kinges beoth his fou: whoder mai he 

nou go? 
Iflemmed he was of Engelonde: and of France also: 
His men makede tho deol ynouj: and nuste tho 

what do. 
And namliche his cunnes men: that for him iflemmed 

"Louerd," hi seide, "alias alias: that we of lyve 

"We beoth idryve of Engelonde: and of France also, 
" What scholde mox'e sorwe, Louerd: than is icome 

ous to?" 1660 

Seint Thomas him makede glad jnouy. and gladede 

also his men anon. 
" Beoth stille," he seide, " for 3e makieth: neodles deol 

"30ure mete 36 mowe aswynke: as gode men doth 

" Beo 36 fram me, hi wolleth beo freondes: that nou 

beoth 30ure fon. 
" For 3e nabbeth hate of noman : bote for me with 

" And beo 3e fram me iwend: me wole 30U lovie 

"A sire! merci," quath this othere: "we witeth wel 

al this: 
" For ous silve nis ous no3t: bote for the, iwis. 
" For we schulle wel oure mete iwinne: ac we nute 

what thu schalt do: 1669 


"Bote thu scliulle for hunger deye: louerd, Avliar tbu 

scliulle so." 
" Icli mai biclde mi mete," quath Seiut Thomas: " ynam 

to god therto; 
" God 5ulde alle that eni god: for his love me hathido. 
"Bituene Burgoigne and Province: as me doth me 

" Gode men beoth and ahnesful: and of cunde londe. 
" If jnemot in France beo: thider ich wole wende, 
"And bidde mi mete for Godes love: if he hit me 

wole sende. 
"3ut som god man me mai iseo: if hit is Godes Aville, 
" And habbe reuthe of me, and helpe me: that meseise 

me ne spille." 
His men for him and for hem silve: raakede deol 

This gode man among al his wo: confortede hem and 

I0U3. 1680 

Alias the deol that ther was: that such aman bitidde! 
That tharchebischop of Canterbure: scholde his mete 

Deore aboujte he holi churche: and holi churche rijte! 
Wcl au5te ech man her after drede: a5en holi churche 

to fi3te. 
As ech man his leve nom: aboutfi forte wende, 
And this holi man ek, in his half: whoder God him 

wolde sende; 
Whoder God wolde, to bidde his mete: forte God him 

sende betere won; 


God sende his grace among hem alle: that sori were 

The Kinges messager of France: to Seint Thomas 

com gon, 
And seide that the King him bad: to him come anon. 
Forth wende this holi man: ac he nuste for whiche 

thinge, 1691 

He tok him al to Godes wille: and com bifore the 

The King anon, so he him isej: toward him com gon, 
And to his fet ful akneo: and cride merci anon. 
" Blynd ich have ibeo," he seide: " and that ich under- 

'' Al mi lond to thi wille nouth: ich bitake the an 

"The while ich am in Francfi Kyng: ich wole th6 

fynde jnou3, 
" For ich understonde that sothe nouthe: that the King 

hath the WOU3." 
To Seint Denys he sende aje: this gode man, iwis, 
And fond him ther to spene ynou: him and alle his. 
More he dude his mi3te3ut: and bituene hem sende his 

sonde, I'^'^l 

To bringe acord bituene hem: and the King of 

At Mount Martre in France: this dai was ynome: 
Thider were the Kinges bothe: and Seint Thomas 

The King of France dude his mijte: that hi were at 

one ibrou3t 


Ac tho hi liadde to gaclere ispeke: al hit was for no5t. 
For the King swor evere his grete oth: that he nolde 

acord non, 
Bote the statutz of Clarendone: iholde were echon. 
And Seint Thomas swor, bi his day: that he nolde 

holde nojt on; 
Rathere he wolde thane deth afonge: bote ther were 

other iwon. I'^o 

Mid wraththe hi departede: and nolde non other 

Seint Thomas gan to sike sore: and inliche wepe also. 
" Louerd," he seide, "help me nou: for thi swete 

wounde ! 
'• Other holi churche is upe the poynte: to beo ibro3t 

to grounde. 
Maister Herbard of Bozham: that on of his clerkes 

In priveit^ bituene hem tuo: seide to Seint Thomas; 
"Sire," (he seide,) "the Mountmartre: this hul 

icliped is, 
" As hi habbeth ispeke of the pays: of holi churche, 

" And as the name saith of this hul: ich douti on mi 

" Thurf thi martirdom holi churche: worth to rijte 

ibro3t." 1720 

This other seide, and sijte sore: "God 5eve hit 

were so, 
"Tliat thurf mi deth lioli churche; were ibrojt therto, 
" That heo were in rijtc lawe: and in god pees ibro3t: 


" And if ich hit mijte bringe therto: of mi detli nere 

me no t." 
A5en midsomer hit biful: that the King gan under- 

And in wraththe of Seint Thomas: ajen wende to 

To seisi Henri his sone: with al his kynedom, 
And to crouni him, andlonge himthojte: er he therto 

And his consail that his was: mest of alle thinge, 
Holi churclie and Seint Thomas: in unrijt forto 

bringe. 1730 

For the archebischopes rijt: of Canterbury hit is, 
To crouni the King of Engelond: and non other, iwis; 
And tlie King, in prejudice of him: to bynyme his 

Let other Bischops crouni his sone: and cudde a lutel 

Four Bischops him crounede: ajen rijt and wone; 
Tharchebischop of Everwyke: and the Bischop of 

And the Bischop of Salesbury: and of Roucetre also; 
At Westmynstre, in Seint Peteres churche: this dede 

was ido. 
The fader servede the sone: atte mete, aday; ^739 

And witli the reaume seide him: as al that folc isay. 
This tethinges of this Kinges: to Seint Thomas come; 
Of the unrijt he sende some: to the Court of Rome. 
The Pope him sende his lettres a3e : and his buUe, that 

me scholde 


Amansi the King and his consail: which tjmc that he 

And suspendi the Bischops: that such unrijt dude 

And entrediti al Engelond: forto hit amended were. 
Seint Thomas athuld the lettre: forte God the grace 

That he mijte the dede do: whan he to Engelond 

5ut com Henri King tliolthe: oftsone into France, 
And the King of France was anuyed: of his destur- 

bance; l"50 

And wende aboute to makie acord. and bituene sende 

So that, as God hit wolde: hi acordede atte laste. 
A Seinte Mai'ie dai Magdalene: ido was this dede. 
In a stede, that me clipeth: Traitoures Mede. 
Also furde thacord: as the mede icliped was: 
For therafter in a lute stounde: nothing isene hit nas. 
Moche hi speke in priveite: and in grete love wende 

And Seint Thomas wende that the King: wolde al liis 

wille do. 
Maister Herbard of Bozam: to the King siththe 

Upe foreward that hi hadde: as Seint Thomas him 

sende; ^'co 

And bad him bote 3ulde a5e: as furfortli as he mijte, 
That his ballifs in his bischopriche: nome mid unri3te. 
" 3t'," quath he, " wolde he so? 5ut he schal abide. 


" Icli wole furst loke hou he wole: him here in other 

"Peraventure he mai so faii'c: him here aje me, 
" That ich him wole 3ulde ech ferthing: therfore cheose 

Lo which acord this was: and hou sone ido! 
The anuy that hadde Seint Thomas: nas nojt yended so. 
Maister Herhard wende a^e: and tolde Seint Thomas 

fore. 1769 

" }e" tho3te this holi man: " this pees is forlore." 
Him silf Seint Thomas siththe: to the Kinge wende, 
To speke more of this acord: if he hit mijte amende. 
The King him wolcomede as li5te: as he ne huld no5t 

And wende him forth, and Seint Thomas: to liure his 

masse also. 
He was iwoned to hure his masse: as hit ful to the day. 
And tho nom he forth a soule masse: that nojt therto 

ne lay. 
For he nolde cusse massecos: to cusse Seint Thomas: 
This holi man tho3te wel: whi thenchesoun was. 
Wei narewe the King himbithojte: to dryve his lither 

This acord was sone ido: and to feble ende ibro3t. 1780 
Tho the masse was ido: in consail longe hi stode. 
Ofte the King up breide the he: him dude er of gode; 
Hou I03 man to him he com: and in which poer he 

him bro3te, 
And that he au3te wel uvele a3en him beo: if he him 

wel bitho3te. 


So lii were togadere longe: and tlio hi liadde al ido, 
Thej hit lute while ilaste: with love hi depart ede atuo. 
Seint Thomas gan to sikfi sore: tho he him hadde un- 

That he hadde so longe ibeo: out of Engelonde; 
Thej hit were ajen his wille: him thojte hit a lither 

That his bischopriche hadde ibeo: withoute govern 

and rede. 1790 

To the King of France he wende furst: and to the gode 

men and hende, 
And faire of hem his leve he nom: to Engelonde to 

He thonkede hem of al onur: that hi him hadde ido, 
And with fair condut and gret love: fram hem wende 

With gret honur he wende of France: toward Enge- 
Atte havene he gan abide: that me clipeth Whit- 

The lettres that he hadde of Rome: to Engelond he 

To do the sentence al abrod: bifore him er he wende. 
The Archebischop of Everwyk: in sentence he let do, 
And the Bischop of Salesbure: and of Londone also; 
For hi hadde icrouned the junge King: ajen his dignete, 
With unrijt in his bischopriche: he amansede alle threo. 
Tlio the tethinge to hem com: hi makeden hem wroth 

ynouj, ^^^^^ 

And thretnede this holiman: thc5 hit were with WOU5. 


Seint Thomas wende toward schipe: to Engelond to 

A man tlier com fram Engelond: ajen him, god and 

''A sire!" he seide, "for Godes love: ne passe nojt 

3ut the see; 
" For kny3tes ther beoth in Engelonde: iredi th6 toslee. 
' At eche havene hi awaitieth: to kepe the, meni on: 
" If thu comest among hem ou3t: thu worst aslawe 

anon." 1810 

" Cartes, sire," quath Seint Thomas: "yneleno leng 

*'To Engelond ich wole nou drawe: itide what bitide. 
" Thej ich beo to drawe Ijme mele: ynele abide namore: 
" To longe ich have thannes ibeo: and that me reweth 

" The soules that ich have to loke: six jer and more, 

" Withoute warde habbeth ibeo: alias to longe hit is! 
" Wei ich wot ich worde ther: aslawe, er come longe: 
"Ich wole for holi churche ri3t: thang deth fawe 

" Acbiddethfor me to Jesu Crist: ich bidde^ par charite. 
"Ac tofore alle othere nameliche: o thing biddeth 

for me, 1820 

" That God, for his holi grace: to Canterbury me sende, 
" That ich mote quik other ded: to myn owe churche 

" If ynemay no3t alyve come: er ich ymartred beo, 
" That mi l)odi mote ded: God hit granti me!" 


His leve he nom dulfulliclie: to schipe he wende tho: 
He thonkede him al onur: that he him hadde ido. 
And biteijte al France Jesu Ci'ist: and blesccde hit 

wel faste, 
That folc makede deol ynouj : the sorewe longe ilaste. 
At Dovere were Knyjtes jare: tliat ihurde of him 

As sone as he come up there: iredi him to quelle. 1830 
Sire Renald de "Warenne: and Sdre Randolf de Broke, 
And also Gerveis the Scherreve: gret folc with him 

To kepe this sell man at Dovere: Avhan he come up of 

the see, 
And, bote he wolde hei*e wille do: al 5are him to sle. 
To the havene of Sandwich: that schip wel evene 

And thother him abide at Dovere: with threting ynouj. 
In the schipes seyl anhej: this holi man let do, 
A croice that me fur ise3: isowed faste therto. 
That was signe of his baner: for other ne kipte he 

Men stodeat Sandwych, andbihulde: the croice mcni on. 
"\Ye seoth nou hiderward," hi seide: " oure Bischop 

Thomas." I8ii 

The 3ut he was fur in the see: me wiste ho hit was. 
The cri was sone wide couth: that folc orn swithe 

And er he were to londe iconic: faste a3en him drou3. 
Hi cride and thonkede Jesu Crist: that hi him moste 

alyve iseo; 


Hi wolcomede him with joye ynouj: ne mijte noman 

more beo. 
The thridde dai of the Advent: bifore Cristes masse 

hit was, 
That he com thus to Engelond: this gode man Seint 

Thomas ; 
The sovethe jer that he furst wende: out of Engelonde, 
For six jer and a month he was fleme: as ich under- 

stonde. 1850 

This was elleve hondred 3er: and sixti and tene, 
After that God an urthe: in his moder ali5te, ich wene. 
Tlie word to this Knijtes com: to Dovere, of this cas, 
Hon Seint Thomas theholi man: at Sandwych aryved 

To Sandwych hi wende faste: Seint Thomas hi fonde 

"With lither semblant ynou3: hi wolcomede him echon. 
Hi seide, " Hou havestou thang wey: to Engelonde 

" That desturbest the lond: as sone as thu er icome, 
" And also al holi churche: as we aldai iseoth, 
"That amansest the Bischops: that thyne felawes 

beoth? I860 

" Thu aujtest mid alle lawe: love pees and arere, 
" And ther nas nevere alonde pees: siththe thu bischop 

" If thu thenchest wel to do: withdrau3 thi dede, we 

redeth, sone; 
" Other me schal do bi the: as bi such a man is to done." 
"Mi leove freond," quath Seint Thomas: " soth hit is 



" That mansing ich let do: mid rijte and no3t mid 

WOU3 ; 
" And bi mi louerdes leve, the King: that ech man 

in rijte were, 
" That so gret ti-epas ne wende forth : bote hit amended 

" And were eftsong afterward: mid unrijt and aje 

"In diserteisoun of mi churche: to custurae idrawe. 
Tho the Kni3tes ihurde: that the King consentede 

therto, 1871 

Hi bilevede here gretemod: and here threting also, 
And in faire manere bede him: undo his mansinge, 
To norischi love to his felawes: bituene him and the 

So that respit bituene hem: of this answere hi nome, 
Forte Seint Thomas amor we: to Canterbury come. 
Seint Thomas amorwe: to Canterbure drouj; 
The contrai a3en hira com: with joye and blisseynou3. 
Ech preost somnede his parosche: clanliche, in ech 

To beo 3are a3en him: with processioun to wende; 
So that with processioun: meni and faire ynou3, i^i 
"With croiz and with tapres: the contray a3en liim 

With croiz and with taperes: ne mi3te non more beo, 
Hi thonkede alle Jesu Crist: that hi mijte him 

alyve iseo. 
Of bellen and of taperes: so gret was the soun, 
Of instrument and of song: tho he com into the toun, 


That me ne mijte ihure other thing: for the noyse so 

More joye ne mijte beo: than was in the stret. 
As oure Louerd a Pahnsonedai: lionured was ynouj, 
Tho he rod into Jerusalem: and toward his dethe 

drouy, 1890 

Also was Seint Thomas: as me mijte iseo there, 
For oure Louerd wolde that his detli: iliche to his were. 
Er this holi man, Seint Thomas: to his churche come, 
The monekes with processioun: ajen him thane wei 

Of his palefrai he alijte adoun: and the monekes 

To the he3e weved myldeliche: hi ladde him up anon. 
Tho he hadde at churche ido: al that was to done. 
With his men myldeliche: to his in he wende sone. 
Nadde Seint Thomas nojt ibeo: at his paleys wel longe. 
That this Knijtes eft ne come: here answere to 

afonge. 1900 

Hi beden as hi duden er: undo his mansinge. 
And assoilli the Bisschops: that he let therinne bringe. 
" Beau frere/' quath Seint Thomas: '• that ne mai ich 

do no5t; 
" For hi beoth in sentence: thurf the Pope ibrojt. 
"Andynemai no3t undo his dede: je wite, in none 

" Ac no3t for than ich triste wel: so moche to his 

" That ich wole assoilli hem: in thisse forme, fawe, 


" That hi do surance forto stoude: to holi churche 

"And to the heved of holi churche: and in other 

forme non." 
The Knijtes the hi hurde this: faste hi chidde echon; 
And tho hi nadde non other word: for wraththe forth 

hem weude. i^n 

And tolde the Bischops here answere: that hem thider 

The Bischops hem makede wroth ynouj: and thret- 

nede faste, 
And natheles the tueye of hem: withdrowe hem atte 

The Bischop of Salesbury: and of Londone also, 
To holi churche wolde stonde: and to hire loking also. 
Ac tharchebischop of Everwyk: anon him withsede: 
"Daithat," he seide, "that astonde: so folliche at 50ure 

" Forto don ous in his grace: that evere was oure fo. 
" He hath ido ous meni schame: and thanne he wole do 

ous mo. 1920 

" Thej he habbe of 50U poer: he nath non of me, 
"For Archebischop ich am: je wite, as wel as he. 
"Ich wot ich have a lute cofre: that stent hoi and 

" Ther beoth 3ut inne atte leste: eijte hondred pound, 
"jare ich am to spene that: 3ut me thencheth to lute, 
" Forto awreke ous wel of him: and alcgge his prute. 
" "Wende we to the Kinge anon: and telle we of this 



" And that him ne tideth nevereft pees: bote he him 

therof rede." 
This threo Bischops hasteliche: over see thane wei 

Alute bifore Cristes masse: to the King hi come, i^^o 
Hi fonden him in Normandie: hi fulle adoun akneo; 
Hi beden him holden up his onur: and here help to 

Hi tolden him hou this gode man: tho he to londe com, 
Desturbede al holi churche: and the kynedom; 
And hou he hadde with grete prute: in sentence ido 
Alle that makede his sone Kyng: and assentede therto; 
And hou he, in despit of him: dude suche lither dede, 
And the lawes of his lond: alout rijt withsede. 
Thej King the he hurde this: for wraththe he wasne3 

He 5eode up and doun as vvitles: and ofte iy thojtS 

stod. 19-t 

" If alle that makedi mi sone King: he manseth," he 

" Mid the furste he manseth me: for hit was mi dede. 
" Ho mijte in suche soriuisse: such lyf longe lede? 
" The traitour aspilleth al that lond: and brinjth ous 

in wrecchede." 
Ofte he cursede alle: that he hadde forth ibrojt, 
That hi of the false preost: his fo, ne wreke him nojt, 
That desturbed al that lond: and brojte in wrecchede. 
As he 3eode up and doun: and this wordes sede, 
His Kni3tes, tho hi hurde this: hi stode sone stille: 
Hi bithojte stilleliche: to paye the Kinges wille. l^*^^ 



Foure that the meste schreweu were: bitli05ten of a 


Sire Renald le Fizours: and Sire Hughe de Moreville, 
And Sire Williem the Traci: and Sire Richard the 

Here names, for here schrewede: nebeothno3t forjute 

Hi nome hem to rede still cliche: to passi the see, 
And fortopayethe Kinges wille: Seint Thomas to sle. 
Stilleliche hi wende forth: that no man hit nuste. 
Hi were nejwhat atte see: er the King hit wiste: 
Tho the King liit under3et: after hem he sonde, 1^59 
That hi levede here folic: and a5en to him wende. 
Acthismessager ne mijte nojt: atake hem mid no ginne, 
For er he com to the see: hi were fur with inne, 
Tho raakede the King deol jnouy. that hi were forth 

And that the messager hem ne oftok: that lie after 

hem isend. 
Seint Thomas at Canterbure: a Midewynteres day, 
Stod and prechede that folc: as meni man isay. 
In his predicatioun: he gan to sike sore. 
And deol and sorwe makede ynou5: ne mi3te no man 

He wep and lokede therto: hou the teres urne adoun; 
Ther was ek meni weping 636: sone into al the toun. 
"Mi leove freond," quath Seint Thomas: wepinge wel 

sore, 1961 

"30ure preost ich habbe awhile bco: ac ynemai nou 



" For myn endedai is nej icome: yne worthe 1103! her 

"Icli schal for lioli churche rijt: quik thane deth 

"Biddeth for me, for Godeslove: and for holi churche 

"That is almest ibrojt to grounde: bote God nyme 

jeme therto. 
"Ac thane deth ich wole fawe afonge: whan hit is 

Godes wille, 
"For the ri5t of holi churche: rather than heo aspille." 
Boc and candle he nom anon: and amansede rijt there, 
Alle that werrede holi churche: and ajen hire rijtes 

were; 1970 

And nameliche Sire Randolf de Broke: and Sire Ro- 
bert de Brok also. 
That the bischopriche of Canterbury: mid unrijt 

hadde misdo. 
For the while Seint Thomas was out of londe: the 

King Henri bitoc 
The bischopriche, al to loke: to Sire Randolf de Brok ; 
And he makede Robert de Brok: his clerk that was 

Wardeyn therof under him: that dude the lond wel wo. 
He destruyde al the bischopriche: and to him nom and 

And let him gret bold arere: of that he nom with wouj. 
Therinne a Cristes masse dai: tho this mansing was ido. 
He sat and et nobliche: and meni with him also, i^so 
He caste houndes of his bred: that bifore him lay, 


And everech hound liit forsoc: as al that folc isay. 
Tho handlede he other bred: and let menge hit, atte 

With other bred ther biside: and amonge the houndes 

hit caste. 
Al that he ihandled hadde: the houndes hit forlete, 
And chose out tliother ther among: and clanliche hit 

The mansing was on him isene: anon thulke day; 
Ther was gret wreche of God: as al that folc isay. 
Whan hi that bred forsoke: that tofore him lay, 
Bi a Fridai, thulke jer: was Ci'istes masse day. l^oo 
As this four lithere Kni3tes: of wham we gonne telle, 
To Engelonde were icome: Seint Thomas forto 

To the castel of Saltwode: a Seint Thomas dai hi come, 
Six myle fram Canterbury: and ther here in nome. 
And Sire Randolf de Brok: to hem com wel sone. 
Thulke nijt hi nome here red: the lithere dede to done. 
Amorwe, a Childerne masse dai: (as God the gi'ace 

Sire Randolf de Brok: to Canterbure wende, 
Forto enquere of Seint Thomas: wliar hi him mijte 

That he ne drowe him nojt awei: nc luuldc him bi- 

hynde. 2000 

This Knijtes thang Tuesdai: nolde no leng bileve, 
Ac wende forth to Canterbure: wel er hit were eve. 
Aboute tyme of evesong: to Seint Thojnas hi come, 
Thane wei, baldC'lichc: to hii> chambre lii nome. 


Hi come, and fonden him stilleliche: in his chambre 

With his privei clerkes: and gret consail hadde an- 

Sire Renald le Fizours: grimliche forth wende: 
" Sire," he seide, " oure louerd the King: in message 

hider ous sende. 
" Fram him out of Normandie: an heste we habbeth 

" That thu do his comandement: that thu ne bileve 

hit nojt; 2010 

" And that thu wende to his sone: that jung Kyng 

ymaked is, 
" And amende a3en him that thu hast: his fader ido amis; 
" And swere him oth to beo him true: and of the 

baronye also, 
" That thu boldest of him in chief: do that thu au3test 

to do. 
" The clerkes that thu bringest with the: if hi woUeth 

her astonde, 
" Swerie the King true to beo: other hi schulle out of 

" Beau sire," quatli this gode man: "ynele the no5t 

" Ich wole do the King that ich aujte: for the baronie. 
" Ac nolde God that holi churche: underfote were 

" That ich, other mi clerkes: eni of hem do. 2020 

" Thu wost wel that alle the lewede men: that beOth 
in his londe. 


" Ne swerieth nojt thulke oth: as icli understonde. 
" Nou wolde 36 holi churche: "in gret servage do, 
*' In more than a lewed man: nai, ne worth hit no5t so." 
" Me thin3th wel," quath Sire Renald: " thu nelt do 

" Of the heste that we briugeth the: fram oure louerd 

the King. 
" "We hoteth th6 ek, in his half: that thu assoilli also 
" The Bischop[s] that thu hast: in sentence ido." 
" Beau sire," quath Seint Thomas: " hit nis mi dede 

" Ac thurf the Popes owe mouth: hi beoth in sentence 

ibro3t; 2030 

" And, thu wost wel, ynemai no3t: the Popes dede 

"Thurf the Pope," quath Sire Renald: "ido? thurf 

the hit is so." 
" K the Pope," quath Seint Thomas: " hath in sen- 
tence ibro3t, 
" That habbeth mi churche misdo: hit ne mispaeth 

me no3t." 
" In eche manere thu schewest wel:" Sire Renald seide 

" Forto anuye oure louerd the King: and thu ert liis fo. 
" Whar thurf we wel iseoth: tliu wilnest him do wo, 
" And bjnyme his croune, if thu mijt: ac hit ne schal 

no5t go so; 
" And king thu woldest beo in his stede: thu ne worst 



" Certes, sire," quath Seint Thomas: ''yne thencliS 

nojt therto. 2010 

"Ac ich him wole rathere therto helper so moche as 

ich may, 
" And for him and his honur: ich bidde ni3t and day. 
" For ther nis non an urthe: that ich lovie more, iwis, 
" Than ich do him, sauf his fader: that mi louerd is. 
" A Seinte Marie dai Magdalene: (to sothe ich sigge 

" Thacord was ymaked: hituene mi louerd and roe; 
" And he seide me that ich lete amansi: alle that 

habbeth misdo 
" Mi churche, that is his owe moder: and that ich 

habbe ido." 
"Avoy! sire preost!" quath this other: "to moche 

thu spext nej, 
" Thu desclandrest thin owe louerd: thou nert 

nothin[g] slej, 2050 

" Saistou that mi louerd the King: in mansing let do 
" Alle that makede his sone King: ne consentede he 

'•' Nas hit al bi his owe dede: and bi non other manes 

"Avoi! sire preost!" he seide, " bitheuch the bet: 

ne sai thu so nomore." 
" Sire," quath Seint Thomas: " thu wost wel hit was 

" For thu were ther tho the silf: and meni other therto, 
" Archebischops and Bischops: and other grete and 



"36? vyf hondrecl men and mo: as the silf ise5e." 
"Beo stille!" quath this lithere Kni3t: "hold thi 

mouth, ich rede. 
" Thumissaistfoule thin owe louerd: daithat hit so sede. 
" Ho mijte sufFri such desclandre: bote he nome 

wrecche? 206I 

" Bi the fei that ich owe to God: me schal the ano- 
ther teche." 
His felawes also everechone: here armes abrod caste, 
Andfurde as men that wode were: and thretnede faste. 
To the monekes hi wende anon : " cometh forth," hi sede, 
" 36 holdeth her the Kinges fo: witeth him wel, ich 

" And her to the Kinges wille: his bodi habbe 3are, 
" Other he schal 3oure londes aboute: and 30ure raa- 

ners make bare." 
" Sire Renald," quatli Seint Thomas: " wenestou ich 

wole fleo? 
" Nai, parde, no3t ofot: for the King ne for the!" 2070 
" Bi Gode, sire preost," quath Renaud: " bi than thu 

wost than ende: 
*' Thi fleoinge worth swithg schort: thu ne schal no5t 

fur wende." 
This Kni3te3 in grete wraththe ynou3: wende forth 

And lete hem armi swithg wel: and come a3e echon, 
With swerdes and with axes: and mid other armes mo; 
Robert de Brok, the lithere clerk: was with hem tho. 
Into the cloistrc of Canterbure: with grete noyse hi 

gonne weve: 


The monekes songe compli: for hit was ne3 eve. 
Summe for this grete noyse: fulle acloun for fere; 
Sum me bigonne to fleo aboute: as hi witles were. 20S0 
Seint Thomas nom acroice anhonde: and other armes 

And therwith wel baldeliche: 3eode a3en his fon. 
The monekes urne to him sone: " Sire, merci!" hi sede, 
" For Godes love abyd 3ut: cure Louerd the mai wel 

" SuiFre that we lielpe the: other that we with the 

Some wolde maki the dores: tho hi this iseye. 
" Bileveth," quath this holi man: " 3e ne doth no5t as 

the wise: 
" Singeth forth 3our evesong: and oure Louerdes ser- 

" Me ne schal of holi churche: castelmak non. 
" Leteth foles astounde awede: and in here folies gon." 
This Knijtes come reken in: here folies forto do: 
" Whar is," hi seide, "the traitour: and fals Bischop 

ako?" 2092 

Seint Thomas nom the croiz anhonde: and answerede 

his fon: 
" Her ich am, Godes preost: ac traitour nan ich non. 
" Secheth him that wole 3U fleo: other threde joure 

"No prestere ne beoth 30ure swerdes: me to dethe 

" That myn hurte prestere nis: thane dethe forto take: 
" For the ri3t of holi churche: ynele thane deth forsake." 


Ther wend6 forth on, anon: and his hure of drou5; 
And his mantel afterward: mid vylte ynouj. 2100 

Sire Renald le Fizours: pursuede him anon. 
" Sire Renald," quath Seint Thomas: "hou sclial this 

nou gon? 
"Ich have the ofte god ido: the and othere mo." 
" Thu schalt sone," quath this other: "witehouhit 

schal go. 
" Traitour! thu ert ded anon: other neli do!" 
" Tosothe,"quath[this] holi man: " prest ich am therto. 
" For the ri3tes of holi churche: of the deth ich am 

" If heo mi3te therafterward: in pees beo and in lawe. 
"Ac ich bidde 5U, if 56 sicheth me: in oure Louerdes 

" That 56 ne come ne3 no man: him to no schame: 
" For non other gulti nis: of that je witeth me; 2111 
" AUe gulteles hi beoth bote ich one: therfore siker 

5e beo; 
"And also gulteles as hi beoth: harmles leteth hem 

This gode man sat adoun akneo: tho he sej his ende: 
And forto fonge martirdom: the heved he bed adoun, 
And wel softe, as somme ihurde: seide his oreisoun. 
" Oure Louerd and Seint Marie: and Seint Dionis also, 
"And alle the avowes of the churche: that ich an on 

" Ich bitake mi soul here: and holi churche ri3te." 
3ut he bad for holi churche: tho he nadde non other 

mi;te. 2J20 


Sire Renald le Fizours: niest schrewe of eclion, 
Forto smyte tliis lioli man: his swerd lie drouj anon. 
Ac Edward Grim, that was his clerc: of Grante- 

brugge ibore; 
To helpe his louerd, if he mijte : his arm pulte bifore. 
He wondede his arm swithe sore: the blod orn adoun: 
With thulke dint he smot also: Seint Thomas upe the 

That the blod orn bi his face adoun: bi the ri5t half 

of the wounde. 
Loude gradde this lithere Knijt: " smiteth alle to 

grounde!" 2128 

Edward Grim and alle his men: that aboute him were, 
Urne aboute ech in his side: upe the wevedes for fere. 
Ashitbi oure Louerd furde: tho the Gywes him nome, 
His disciples flowe anon: he nuste whar hi bicome. 
For in the Godspel hit is iwrite: as oure Louerd silf 

" "Whan me smyteth the schephurde: the schep woUeth 

to sprede." 
And oure Louerde bad me ne scholde: his disciples 

non harm do: 
Theron tho5te Seint Thomas: and bad for his men also. 
Another Kni5t smot Seint Thomas: in thulke silve 

And makede buye his face adoun: and loke toward 

the grounde. 
The thridde in thulke silve stede: therafter him smot 

anon, 2139 

And makede him aloute adoun: his face upe the ston. 


In thulke stede the furthe smot: that thothere haclde 

er ido, 
And the poynt of his swerd brak: in the marbelston 

For honur of the holi man: that therwith was 

Thulke poynt at Canterbury: the monekes witieth jute. 
With thulke stroc he smot of: the sculle and eke the 

That the brayn orn abrod: upe the pavement ther- 

The white brayn was ymengd: with red blod there; 
The colour was fair to iseo: thej hit reuthe were. 
And alround hit orn aboute his heved: as thej hit 

were a diademe, 2049 

And alround theraboute lay; wherof me tok grete jeme. 
For whan me peynt an halcwe: je ne seoth nojt 

That ther nis ipeynt around: alaboute the heved; 
That is iclepid diademe: as me sej ther a fair cas, 
Bi the diademe of his heved: that he halewe was. 
Tho this holi man was aslawe: this Knijtes graddc 

"This traitour is to dethe ibrojt: wcnde we hunne 

"Sueth ous the Kinges men: and alle that with him 

"Of this traitour we beoth awreke: as we alio iseoth. 
"Hethojte beo hejere than the King: and bynyme 

his croune, 


" And to no3t bringe al that lond: and uou he lith tber- 

doune!" 206O 

As the Gywes dude bi oureLouerd: tho hi wolde him 

to dethe do, 
That he makede him king, and non nas: and Godes 

Sone also. 
Tho this lithere Knijtes: fram Seiut Thomas were 

Robert de Brok him bitho3te: and a56 turnede anon. 
And thurf his senile smot the swerd: fur with inne 

the heved, 
That the senile al amti was: and no brayn therinne 

As the Gywes smyte oui'e Louerd: into the liurte 

After his deth, with a spere: and makede him the 

vyfte wounde. 
This lithere men alle in o stede: smite Seint Thomas, 
In the senile evene abrod: as the croune was. 2070 
He nas no5t the man that wolde: his heved enes 

Ne fonde forto blinche a strok: ne his fot aweiward 

wawe ; 
Ne enes grone ne makie cri: ac myldeliehe and softe 
His heved huld eveneforth: the5 hi smyten ofte. 
This lithere Knijtes wende anon: to his tresorie. 
And breke his dores and his cofres: and dude here 

Hi nome his clothes and his hors: and his tx'esour 

also, ' ' 


Chartres and otiier privei writes: that in his cofres 

were ido. 
Hi bitoke hem Sire Randolf de Brok: that he to the 

Kinge wende, 2079 

Therwith into Normandie: and sigge that hi him sende, 
That he dude therwith what he wolde: and if ther eni 

Ajen his franchise and his Aville: that he hit sone to 

Among his tresour hi fonde ek: tuei wel stronge here, 
Wei vylliche hi hem nome and caste awei: as hi nojt 

worth nerej 
And natheles hi bithojte hem: and were somdel in 

And bispeke bituene hem stilleliche: that he god man 

Sire Williem de Traci siththe tolde: of this gode man 

Seint Thomas, 
The Bischop of Excestre in schrifte: as he ischryve 

That tho Seint Thomas was islawe: and lii outward 

Hem agros so sore that hi were: nej witles for fere. 
For hem tho3tc as hi outward wende: ne 5eoden hi 

nojt so swithe, 2091 

That the urthe openede hem a^i: to swolewe hem 

Tho Seint Thomas asUiwc was: and the Knijtes out 

Into al the toun of Canterbure: couth hit was anon; 



That folc cride dulfulliche: and to churche drowe, 
And lionurede that holi bodi: and custe hit ynowe. 
The nionekes come sone thider: and this holi bodi toke, 
In a here faire hi hit leide: and tofore an auter hit 

The face was why t and cler ynouj ; and no blod ther- 

Bote fram the lift half of his foreheved: to the lift half 

of his chinne, . 2100 

A smal rewe ther was of blod: that over his nose 

No more blod nas in his necke: as that folc ise3 ynouj. 
The wonden bledde al longe nijt: me mijte hente 

therof, iwis: 
In the churche of Canterbure: of the blod 3ut ther is. 
Ac he nas of nothe worse heu: for al that he bledde 

Bote cler and ihewed wel ynouj: as he alyve were: 
Sumdel la3inge with his mouth: he lai as he slepe. 
That folc was aboute him thicke: that blod forto kepe; 
And forto gaderi of that blod: that ischad was in the 

And of the urthe that was bibled: glad weren hi whan 

hihitfounde. 2110 

For that nolde noman hem werne: thicke awei me hit 

And ho uii3te him enes tuochi: he was glad ynou3. 
Amorwe this lithere Kni3te3: armeden hem eftsone, 
And withoute the toune nome here red: what hen\ was 

to done. 



Hi radden hem to nyme this bodi: and with wylde hors 

to drawe, 
And on a war3treo hongen hit siththe: and seide hit 

was lawe: 
For he nas worthe to beon ibured: in churche, ne in 

This monekes overtrowede this: and were sumdel afcrd. 
Hi bnrede this holi bodi: in a stede ther biside, 
With wel lute solempnete : for hi ne therste no leng 

abide. ^120 

This holi bodi was ibured: in the minstre of Jesu 

Bifore Seint Austines weved: and Seint eJohnes the 

Hi ne therste so longe abide: that the bodi iwasche 

Ac al ungreithed hi leide hit in: and hi5ede for fere. 
As hi strupten his clothes of: al abouten him hi fonde 
Clerkes clothes, as hit biful: ac another atte grounde: 
For monekes abyt was withinne: as hi fonde tliere, 
Bothe coucle and stamyn: hi fondC next the here. 
So that he was withinne monek: and seculer withoute: 
Nuste noman his priveite: of that hem was aboute. 
Next his flesch his here was: with knottes menion; 
That deope in his flesch hi wode: and summe anon to 

the bon. • 2132 

Thcrof he hadde schurte and brech: Intel esehemi5te 

So that he was therinnc ibounde: fram schuldre to the 



AVith Intel ese he mijte sitte: and uneseliche ride, 
And uneseliche ligge ek: and wende up aither side. 
Ful of wormes was his flesch: ek to other wo, 
In no creature (icli understonde): ne fond nevere man 

For in eche stede of his flesch: hi were so thicke 

That the grete ne nii3te come: for the smale to here 
mete. 2140 

Faste hi schove and crope ek: as emeten alaboute; 
Ac the smale clevede faste to: the grete levede with- 

He deide elleve hondred jer: and soventi and on, 
After that oure Louerd ali5te: to nyme oure flesch 

and bon. 
Of threo and vyfti 5er him silf: of elde he was tho: 
He hadde meni a fair dai: ilyved in care and wo. 
The King was evere in Normaudie: and therof nuste 

He makede deoland sorweynou: tho the tethinge him 

was ibro3t. 
In the castel of Argenteyme: he sojournede tho, 2149 
Withoute the 3et ne com he no3t: fourti dayes ne mo; 
Ac evere him hulde in priveite: in wop and other wo; 
For no neode that me him sede: he nolde withoute go. 
He ne ro3te nothing of this wordle: lute he et also: 
The sorwe and deol tliat he makede: ne mi3te nevere 

beo ido. 
He sende anon to Canterbure: for tliis deolful dede, 



And the monekes bad pitousliche: that hi for him 

And sende hem word that hit nas: nothing bi his rede, 
And that the Kni5te[s] wende forth: and nothing hi no 

And that he sende after hem: that hi come a3e, 
And er the man hem come to: hi were fur in the see. 
To the Pope also god: the King sende sone, 2161 

And bad his consail pitousliche: what him was to done; 
And bad him, for the love of God: in such angusse 

him rede, 
That he were ischryve and assoilled: of the lithere 

The Pope hadde gret pite; that he such word him 

And gret joy that he hadde wille: his lyf to amende. 
Tuei Cardynals he sende him: wise men bothe tuo, 
To schryve him of tliulke synne: and assoilli also; 
And the Bischops to assoilli ek: that were in mansinge. 
AVele that this Cardinals: wolcome were the Kinge. 
The King bad hem deolfulliche: schryve him of the 

dede; 2171 

Ac bihet hem stabliche: to stonde al at here rede. 
He swore upe the halidom: that hit nas bi him nojt, 
Ne bi his wille, ne bi his heste: that he was to dethe 

Ne that for his fader deth: so sori man he nas, 
Ne for his morde nothemo: as he for him was. 
And that he wolde with gode hurte: the penance al 



That hi wolde legge on him: nere hit n03t so stronge; 
For he was ench^soun of his deth: and of his anuy 

For the Knijtes to paye him: brou3te him therto. 2180 
Tho the Cardinals iseje: that lie repentant withdrouj, 
Hi assoillede him, and leide on him: penance strong 

In priveite, as rijt was: that noman hit nuste; 
And this ek that ich wole nou telle: that that folc of 

wiste; — 
That he fonde to the holi londe: to hondred knijtes to 

Al a 3er, with Templers: for holi chnrche ri3te; 
And the statutz of Clarendone: he scholde alout with- 

For whan this holi man: was ibr03t of dawe; 
And that he clanliche julde a3e: that bynome was, 
The bischopriche of Canterbure: for wraththe of 

Seint Thomas; 2190 

That heschulde his uvel wille: al clanliche ek for3yve, 
Al that he hadde of londe: for wraththe of him idryve. 
The King grantede al here wille: wepinge wel sore; 
And seide hit was to lute: and bad legge on him more; 
And seide, "almid wille her: mi bodi ich bitake: 
"3ev'eth me penance ynou3: ynele non forsake." 
He wende out atte churche dore: assoilled to beo, 
And ne huld him no3t worthe: that me scholde him 

withinne iseo. 
Withoute the churche pitousliche: he sat adounakneo. 


Ac the Cardinals nolde 11031: his bodi al unwreo. 2200 
Ac somdel above his clothes: hi assoillede him thei'e. 
For deol hi wope pitousliche: rneni that ther were. 
As sone he make ane biheste: with wel dreori cliere, 
His fader penance to fulfiUe: if he of poer nere; 
If he fill in feble stat: that he ne mi3te hit ful endc, 
The penance he nom upe him silve: and dude as the 

Thus was this gode man: ibr03t to martirdom: 
Meni was the fair miracle: that siththe for him com. 
Me wiste in Jerusalem: that he was to dethe ido, 2209 
Withinne the furste fourteni3t: that hit com therto. 
For a monek of thulke londe: in his detli uvel lay, 
And his Abbot tofore him com: bifore his ende day; 
And conjurede him that he scholde: after his deth uvcl 

Come to him and telle him fore: in which stat he were. 
So that the monek deide sone: as God 3ctf the cas. 
To his Abbot siththe he com: as he conjured was; 
And seide that he isaved was: in the joye of hevene 

anhe3, 2317 

And tolde him mochc of the joye: that he ther isej. 
He tolde him that thulke tyme: that he to hevene com, 
The Archebischop of Canterbury: tholede martirdom; 
And that his soule thulke tyme: wende to hevene anon. 
Fair was the processioun: that a3en him com gon, 
Of angles and of patriarcs: and of apostles also, 
Of martirs and of confessours: and of virgines therto. 
Hi Home allc his holi soule: and tofoi'c ourc Louerd 



And brou3te him with joye 7110115: as he sat on his 

His croune was al of ismyte: blodi was his heved, 
And his brayn was al ischad: that ther nas nojt ileved. 
"Thomas! Thomas!" quath oure Louerd: "thus hit 

falleth to the, 
" To come into thi Louerdes court: in suche manere 

to me. 2330 

" For thi servise, ich th^jeve: moche joye and blis, 
" As ich 3af Seint Peter: that myn owe disciple is." 
A croune he sette upon his heved: of gold cler and 

Wei bicom the bri5te gold: upon the rede blod. 
More joye ne mijte beo: than for him in hevene was: 
The Archebischop of Canterbure: this was Seint 

The Tuesdai after Cristes masse: the nexte that ther 

The holi man Seint Thomas: tholede martirdom. 
And whan thu hurest telle of his deth: of men of 

Thu schalt ileove me of this tale: and that sothe 

underfonge. 2240 

The Abbot sone amorwe: ne forjet nojt Seint Thomas, 
Ac the Patriarc of Jerusalem: he tolde al thr.t cas; 
So that forthere in the 3ere: hit was wel understonde. 
That Pelegrims thider come: out of Engelonde. 
The Pelegrims tolde al that sothe: as he hadde er ised, 
In what manere he was aslawe: and which tyme he 

was ded. 


Icud was thus in Jerusalem: the deth of Seint Thomas, 
Withinne the furste fourteni3t: that he ymartred was. 
The vyfte 5er (ich understoude): after his martirdom, 
Bituene King Henri and his sone: gret contek ther 
com. 2250 

The sone bicom prout anon: for his kynedom, 
And of his fader tolde lute: and werre upe him nom. 
The meste del was with his sone: of al Eng&londe, 
And the King of France also: and the King of Scot- 

So that this seli olde man: in sorwe was ynou3; 
Al he hit wiste the lithere dede: that me Seint Tho- 
mas SI0U5. 
He wende out of Normandie: into Engelonde; 
Er he com to Canterbure: he nolde no whar atstonde. 
Tho he com fur withoute the toun: he gan to ali3te 

Al afote and barefot: he wende into the toun, 2260 
In his curtel al ungurd: (as al that folc isay,) 
And to the place he wende so: as Seint Thomas lay. 
He huld up his honden dulfulliche: and cride milce 

and ore; 
At his tumbe he ful akneo: wepinge wel sore. 
Wei)ing in his oreisouns: al fastinge he lay. 
At this holi man^s tumbe: a nijt and a day. 
Of ech monek of the hous: he let him discipline, 
With a 3urd, and 5ut him tho5te. that hit was to lute 

He bad hem alle dulfulliche: bidde for him one: 2269 
He swor ek to legge adoun: the lithere lawes echone. 


So that he let singe a masse: er he thannes wende, 
Of Seint Thomas the holi man: that he his grace him 

The while me this masse song: (as God jaf the cas,) 
The Kyng of Scotlond was ynome: that his meste fo 

And meni otliere ek with him : that were his meste fon, 
So that hi that were ynome: nadde poer non. 
So that this sell olde Kynge: that bynethe tho was, 
Al above was ibrojt: thurf the grace of Seint Thomas; 
And his sone was bynethe: and so bijat ful lute, 
To werren ajen his fader: for his sori prute. 2280 

Bi him men mowe nyme ensample: to beo to hasty ve, 
To 3eve hex'e songs up here lond: the while hi beoth 

The sone tho therafterward: provede uvele ynouj; 
Wei longe bifore his fader: toward the dethe he drouj. 
And forpynede in the meneisoun: that his lyf him 

thojte longe, 
And deide siththe dulfuUiche: in gret pyne and strong. 
His brother also, Sire Geifrai: that of Britaigne Eorl 

Deide ek in the meneisoun: in the silve cas; 
So that after here fader dethe: ther bilevede heir non, 
Bote here brother Kyng Richard: and siththe Kyng 

John. 2290 

Ac Sire Geffreies child: bi ri5te lawe of londe, 
Scholde habbe ibore the heritage: as ich understonde: 
Therfore that maide of Britaigne: that his doujter was, 
In warde was al hire lyf: for thulke silve cas. 


The litliere Kni3tes, alle foure: that slowe Seint 

Deide in stronge dethe ynouj: and no wonder nas! 
Hi were echone repentant: ne mijte none men more: 
Evere hi cride on Seint Thomas: to 3eve hem milce 

and ore. 
Sone after that he was aslawe: here god al hi lete, 
And wende to the holi lond: here synnes forto bete. 
Ac Williem Traci ne wende nojt: forth Avith thother 

threo; 2301 

He hopede her in Engelond: repentant ynouj to beo; 
Ac he bicom therafterward: in grete meseise and 

His flesch bigan to breken out: and rotede and foule 

So longe, that hit stonk so foule: that deol hit was to 

That unethe my3te eni man: for stinche ne5 him beo. 
His flesch rotede on him ek: and aldai ful awey, 
That his bonis were al bare: ne likede him no pley. 
He todrouj ek his owe flesch: mid his honden, atte 

Pece and other al abrod: fram him awei caste. 2310 
He todrouj honden and amies: mest of echon, 
That ther nas no flesch ileved: bote synes and bar bon. 
Meni men hit thojte wel: that hit his wille were, 
Forto bete his synne: that his soule in peril nere. 
Wrecchedere gost ne mi3te beo: than this sell prisoun 

Evere lie cride deolfulliche: " merci, Seint Thomas!" 


Atte laste he let his lyf: in the strongc pyne, 
And if hit Godes willc was: com to gode fyne. 
This Knijtes, for this lithere dede: deide sone echon, 
So that in the thi-idde 5ere: ther ne levede aljve no3t 

on: 2320 

For the Sauter saith that suche men: that of tricherie 

Ne schnlleth no3t half here dayes libbe: as we aldai 

Thej hi beo wel repentant: as this Kni5tes were, ich 

3ut ne libbeth hi no5t half here lyf: as hit was bi hem 

Seint Thomas, this holi man: under urthe lay, 
Er that he ischryned were: meni a long day. 
He lai therinne fourti 3er: and half 3er therto, 
And aboute an ei3te dayes : er he were of urthe ido. 
God wolde abide a god tyme: to so noble thing, 
Whan hi were bothe gode: Archebischop and King. 
For the Kyng that longe was: and evere was of lither 

dede, 2331 

Lute tho3te, bi his day: to do so gode dede. 
Ac the King Henri the 3unge sone: nolde no3t longe 

Tho he was 3ung King ymaked: er he were in schryne. 
He nas no3t of threttene 3er: er he dude this noble 

And hit was ek in the f urthe 3er: that he was ymaked 

The gode Archebischop Stevene :radde evere faste therto, 


So that bi here beire red: this clede was ido. 

The Pope Hono[r]i that was tho: hedir he gan sende 

Pandolf, a Legat fram Rome: to bringe this dede to 

ende. 2340 

The Pope jaf alle gret pardoun : that thider wolde gon, 
That me nuste longe in Eiigelond: so gret pardoun 

Therfori to honurye this holi bodi: ther com folc ynouj, 
Of bischops and of abbotes: menion thider di"0U3; 
Of priours and of persones: and of meni other clerkes 

Of eorles and of barouns: and of meni knyjtes therto; 
Of serjant5 and of squiers: and of hosebondes ynowe, 
And of simple men ek of the lond: so thicke thider 

That al the lond theraboute: the contrayes wide and 

Mijte unethe al that folc: that ther com, afonge. 2350 
So that this heje men: that scholde this dede do. 
Were in care hou hi mijte: for presse come therto; 
So that the Archebischop Stevene: of wham that ich 

30U er sede, 
And the Bischop Richard of Salisbure: nome hem to 

And the Priour, "Water, of the hous: and the Covent 

"Wenden hem alle in priveite: this dede forto do. 
Binyjte as the men leye and slepe: and lute tlierof 

Hi nome up this holi bones: and in a chistc hem brojte. 


And sette hem up in a privei stede: forte the dai were 

That was icrid into al that lond: that he schokle beo 

up ynome, 2360 

This was in the month of Jul: rijt evene the sovethe 

That bi a Tywesdai was tho: as al that folc isay. 
Tho this dai was icome: to this mynstre wende anon 
The Kyng Henri the 3unge child: and this hejC men 

Aboute underne of the dai: to [this] holi bodi hi come; 
Pandolf wende furste therto: the Legat of Rome; 
And the Archebischop of Canterbury: and of Reyns 

That for the silve thinge come: fram bijunde see 

And Sire Huberd de Brom: that was the he^e Justise, 
And four grete louerdlings that were: noble men and 

wise, 2370 

Upe here schuldren hi nome: this holi bodi anon; 
And the bischops and abbotes: were ek meni on. 
To the he3 [auter] of the Trinite: this holi bones hi 

And leide the chiste al therwith: in a noble scliryne 

This King Henri was so jung: that he ne therste nojt, 
With othere bere this holi bones: leste me hurte him 

This was bi a Tywesdai: that this bones up hi nome: 
Al his cheances that he hadde: by Tywesdai hi come. 


Bi Tywesdai he was ibore: and out of his moder 

wombe com; 2379 

And also me bringeth ane theof: to fongen his dom, 
Tofore the Kyng at Novhamptone: bi a Tuesdai: 
With grete scharae he was ibro3t: as al that folc isai: 
Vyllokere than eni theof: that folc him ther as '.ende. 
Bi Tuesdai he was iflemd: and out of Engeloud wende. 
Bi a Tuesday at Ponteney: oure Louerd to him com, 
And seide him that swete word: of his martirdom. 
" Thomas!" seide oure swete Louerd: " 5ut schullen of 

thi blode, 
"Alle mi churchen ihered beo:" this beoth wordes 

Bi Tuesdais also god: to Engelond he com, 2389 

After that he was iflemd: to fonge his martirdom. 
Bi a Tuesdai at Canterbury: to dethe he was ido, 
And siththe bi a Tuesdai: ischryned also. 
Thuse sove thinges bi Tuesdai: him come atte laste: 
Therfore me si3th meni men: maki here faste, 
To leve flesch thane Tuesdai: other to o mel faste, 
Forte hi come to Canterbure: to honury the hejefeste. 
Nou Jesus, for the swete love: that Seint Thomas on 

Bringe ous to thulke joye: that he so deore ous to 

boujte. Amen, 2398 






(Ilearne's edition, pp. 468-478, and 517-518, corrected by 

the Cottonian MS. Caligula a. xi. flf. ISl^-lSS, 

and 1456-140.) 


(IL'ai-n(>, pp. 4GS-478, MS. iK 1.311j-1.3.">.) 

King Henri wondede miiclie: to abbe men in offis, 
Mid him, tliat of conseil: were god and wis. 
Ercedekne of Kanterbury: Sein Tomas tlio was: 
The King him made is Chaunceler: ac* is wille it 

nou[5]t nas. 
To him tlie King truste mest: ne ther nas non so hey, 
That so muche wuste is privite: ne that him were so 

So muche he truste on him: that in is warde he let do 
Henri is eldoste sone: and is eir al so, 
Tliat he were his wardein: and al is ordeinour, 
To is wille to wissi him: and to the Kiuges honour. J*^ 
The King wende to Normandie: to sojorni there. 
And mid Sein Tomas dude is sone: that he is wardein 

Tho Tebaud the Erchebissop: suththe ded was. 
The King and monekes ek: chose Seint Tomas. 
Tho he was Erchebissop: he huld jut in is bond 
That child, vort that the King: come in to Engclond. 

* MS. at. 


The child lovede him inou: more nas nevere iseye, 
Ne he nadde of no man: more love ne eye. 
Tho the King to londe com: Sein Tomas nom is sone, 
And wel vawe ajen him: wende to Southhamtone. 20 
Ther was joye and blisse inou: tho hii togadere come; 
Hii custe horn and biclupte: and herede God ilome. 
It was enleve hundred 3er: and sixti and tuo, 
Of grace, that Sein Tomas: Avas Erchebissop tho. 
The nexte 5er ther after: (as it wolde be,) 
Endleve hundred 3er of grace: and sixti and thre, 
He halwede, as the King him bed: the churche of 

That verst ifounded was: thoru Henri the other Kinge. 
He ssrinede thulke sulve 3er: Seint Edward, iwis. 
That was King of Engelond: at "Westmunstre that is. ^0 
The King 3ef thulke sulve 3er: Henri is sone, Aungeo, 
Tours, and al Normandie: and Richard is sone, al so, 
He 3ef Gascoine and Aquitaine: so that hii dude homage 
King Lowis of France: thervore, withoute outrage. 
GefFray is sone he made Erl: of Brutaine al so. 
The wule is children 3onge were: al this was ido. 
No man ne mi3te thenche: the love that ther was, 
Bituene the King Henri: and the gode man Seint 

The Devel adde envie ther to: and sed bituene horn 

Alas! alas! thulke stounde: vor al to wel it greu! 10 
Vor ther adde er ibe: Kinges of luther dede. 
As Willam Bastard and is sone: Willam the Rede; 
That hither lawes made ynou: and helde in to al the 



The King nolcle noujt bileve: the lawes that he fond, 

Ne that is elderne hukle: ne the godeman Sein Tomas, 

Tliou5te that thing a3e rijte: nevere lawe nas, 

Ne sothnesse, ac costume: mid strengthe up iholde; 

And he wuste that ui' Louerd: in the gospel tolde, 

That he him sulf was sothnesse: and costume nou[5]t: 

Ther vore luther costumes: he nolde graunti noujt. -^O 

Ne the King nolde bileve: that is elderne adde iholde; 

So that contek sprong: bituene hom, mani volde. 

The King drou to rijte lawe: mani luther costome: 

Sein Tomas hom withsede: and grantede some. 

The lawes that icholle nou telle: he grauntede vawe: — 

3uf a thuman hath a sone: to clergie idrawe, 

He ne ssal, withoute is louei'des [wille:*] icrouned 

noujt be: 
Vor thuman ne may noujt be imad : ajen is louerdes 

wille fre. 
Another thing he grauntede ek: as 36 mowe nou ise: 
juf a man of holichirche: halt eni lay fe, ^^ 

Person other wat he be: he ssal do thervore 
Kinges servise that ther valthj: that is rijte ne be 

In playdinge and in asise be: and in jugement also, 
Bote war man ssal be bilemed: other to dethe ido. 
He grantede ek, 5uf eni man: the kinges tray tour were, 
And eni man of is chateus: to holi churche here, 
That holi churche ne ssolde noujt: the chateus therg 


* Evidently omitted in this line, though expressed in the next. 
I Hearne has valp. 

K 2 


That the king there, othei' is: as is owene, is ne vette: 

Vor al that the felon hath: the kinges it is, 

And echman mai, in holi churche: is owene take, ywis.'"^ 

He grantede ek, that a churche: of the kinges fe, 

In none stede eve* and evere: ne ssolde ijive be. 

As to hous of religion: withoute the kinges leve; 

And that he, other the patron: the jifte verst jeve. 

Seint Tomas grantede wel: thes and other mo: 

Ac this othere he withsede: that dude him wel wo: — 

3uf bituene tueie lewede men: were eni striving. 

Other bituene a lewede and a clerc: vor holichurche 

As vor vow^eson of churche: wether ssolde the churche 

The king wolde that in is court: the pie ssolde be 

drive, 80 

Vor as muche as a lewed man : that the o i)artie was, 
Clanliche was under the king: and under no bissop nas. 
Another was, that no bissop: ne clerc nathemo, 
Ne ssolde withoute [the] kinges leve: out of this lond go; 
And thanne hii ssolde suerie: upe the bok, ywis. 
That hii ne ssolde purchasy non uvel: the king, ne 

non of his. 
The thi'idde was, juf eni man: in mansinge were ibroujt, 
And suththecometoamendement: nea3eri3tenereno3t, 
That he ne suore nou5t upe the hoc: ac borewes finde 

To stonde to that holichircbe: ther of him loky wolde. ^0 

* Hearno has ene : perhaps it ought to road were in both 


The vei-the was, that no man: that of the kinge hulde 

In chef, other in eni servise: in mansinge were ibrojt, 
Bote the wardeins of holichirche : that bro3te him 

Tlie king sede, other is bailifs: wat he adde misdo ; 
And lokede verst wer hii wolde: to amendement it 

And bote hii wolde be hor leve: do the mansinge. 
The vifte was, that bissop riches: and abbeies also. 
That vacauns were of prelas : in the kinges hond 

were ido; 
And that the king ssolde al the lond: as is owe take, 
Vort atte laste that him luste: eni prelat ther make, lOO 
And thanne thulke prelat ssolde: in is chapele ichose be, 
Of is clerkes, wuclie he wolde: to such prelat bi se; 
And thanne wan he were ichose: in is chapele rijt 

Homage he ssolde him do: ar he confermed were. 
The sixte was, 3uf eni play: to chapitle were idrawe. 
And eni man made is apel: 3uf me dude him unlawe, 
That to the bissop fram ercedekne: is apel ssolde make, 
And fram bissop to erchebissop : and suththe non 

herre take ; 
And bote the erehebissopes court: to rijte him wolde 

That he ssolde fram him: biclupe bivore the kinge; HO 
And fram the king non herre mo: so that, atten ende, 
Plaininge* of holichirche: to the king solde wende, 

* So in the MS , but differently in v. 115. 


And the king amendi ssolde: the erchcbissopes dede, 
And be as in the popes stude: ac Sein Tomas it with 

The sevethe was, that plaidinge: that of dette were, 
To 5elde wel thorn treutheipli5t: and nojt iholde nere; 
Al thei thorn treuthe it were: that pie ssolde be ibrojt, 
Bivore the king and is bailifs: and to holi churche nojt. 
The ei5tethe was, that in the londe: citacion non nere, 
Thoru bulle of the pope of Rome: ac clene bileved were. 
The nithe was, that Petres panes: that me gadereth 

manion, 121 

The pope nere noujt on isend: ac the king echon. 
The tethe was, 3uf eni clerc: as felon were itake. 
And vor felon iproved: and ne mijte it no3t vorsake; 
That me ssolde him verst desordeini: and suththe 

thoru pur lawe. 
And thoru jugement of the lond: honge him, other to 

Vortlies, andvor other mo: thegoderaon, Seint Tomas, 
Fleu verst out of Engelond: and suththe ymartred was. 
Vor he sei ther nas bote o wey : other he moste stif be, 
Other holichurche was issent: that mid rijte was so 

fre. 130 

Endleve hundred3er of grace: and foure and sixti therto, 
It was, that Sein Tomas: of londe wende so. 
The nexte 5er ther after: the Amperesse Mold 
"Wende out of this live: as the boc ath itold. 
The King let crouni to Kinge: an vif jer after this, 
Henri is eldoste sone: at Westmunstre, ywis, 
As endleve hundred 5cr of grace: and sixti and tene; 


And sixtene 3er lie was old: tlio he was icx'ouned, icli 

The Erchebissop of Everwik : and the Bissop of Londone, 
And of Salesbury, him crounede: a5en rijt and wone. no 
Vor the Erchebissop of Canterburi : mid ri3te it 

ssolde do. 
Tho Sein Tomas it wuste: gret deol he nom him to. 
That the churche of Kanterbury: in such unrijt was 

He nolde, vor to tholie deth: leng tholieit no5t. 
He drou him towarde Engelond: to is martirdom: 
As Godes knijt, he bigan: tho he hider com. 
He amansede alle thulke: that such unri3t adde ido, 
To the churche of Canterbury: and the King icrouned 

The thre bissopes worthe* were: and nome hom to rede, 
And wende vorth to Normandie: and the olde King it 

sede. 1-50 

The King was nei, vor wraththe, wod: and sed6, " juf 

that he 
" Amanseth alle thulke men; thanne amanseth he me." 
He acorsede alle thulke men: that he hadde vorth 

That of an false preste: ne abbe eke him noujt.f 
That word he sede ofte: in hastinesse, ywis: 
Foure of the Develes limes: is Knijtes, hurde this; 
Sire Eeinaud Le Fizours: Sire Roger Brut al so, 
Sire Hue de Morvile: Sir Willam Traci ther to; 

* So, for luroihe. 

t That had not avenged him of a false priest. See Life, v. 1946. 


Hii nome hom to rede: and vor to paye is wille, 
Wendg vorth to Engelond: hasteliche and stille. i<50 
The the King com to is mete: and is Kni5tes mid 

him were, 
He bihuld and miste: thulke foure there. 
Is herte him 3ef anon: wuderward hii wende: 
In anguisse and sor ynou: after hom he sende, 
Toward the se, hastehche: that hii come aje. 
Ar the messager come: hii were in the se. 
Hii wende hom vorth to Kanterburi: and in the churche 

Hii martreden Sein Tomas: an Tiwesdaj at ni3t. 
This godeman sat adoun akne: and is heved buyede 

And wel softe, as some hurde: sede this orison: — I'O 
" God and Seinte Marie: and Sein Denis al so, 
" And alle the avowes of this churche: in was oreich 

am ido,* 
" Ich bitake min soule: and holi churche rijte!" 
jut he bed vor holi cliurche: tho he nadde other mijte. 
Sir Reinaud Le Fizours: mest ssrewe of echon, 
Vor to smite this holi man: is suerd drou anon. 
Ac Edward Grim, that was is clerc: of Grantebrugge 

To helpe is louerd, juf he mijte: pulte is arm bivore. 
He wounde his arm suithG sore: tliut blod orn adoun: 
Mid thulke dunt ck he smot: Sein Tomas upe the 

croun, 180 

* Aiul all the putron-saiiit.s of this church, in whose favor I 
am iilucctl. — Ilcarne rcails aboiixs. 

ArrENDix. lo7 

That thut blod orn bi is face: in the rijt half of the 

Loude gradde the luther Kni3t: " Smiteth alle to 

In thulke svdve wounde: an other him smot the, 
That he abuyde is face adoun: vort ther come mo. 
The thridde in thulke sulve stede: ther after smot 

And made him aloute al adoun : is face vpe on the ston. 
In thulke stede the verthe smot: that the othere adde 

er ydo; 
And the point of is suerd brec: in the marbreston 

a tuo. 
3ut thulke point at Canterbury: the monekes lateth 

Vor honour of the holi man: that therwith was ismite. 
With thulke stroc he smot al of: the scolle and ek the 



That the brain orn al abrod: in the paviment ther 

Tho this holiman imartred was: the Knijtes gradde 

" This traitor is to dethe ibro3t: wende we henne 

" Syweth us* the Kinges men: and alle that mid him 

" Of this traitor we beth awreke: as 30 nou iseth. 

* In tho ]\IS. nou was the original reading, corrected into vs, 
which liearue misprinted vi. 


" He thou3te be herre than the King: and binime him 

is croune, 
" And to nou5te briuge al Engeloud: and nou he lith 

ther doune!" 
In endleve hundred 3er of grace: this godeman, Sein 

And sixti and endlevene: thus iraartred was. 200 

Tho the King it wuste: he made deol ynou, 
So that vor anguisse: nei him sulve he slou. 
In the castel of Argentein: vourty dawes he was, 
In a chaumbre al one: Avithoute eni solas. 
In wop and sorwe and deol inou: and confort non him 

Ac evere on the holiman: criede, Sein Tomas. 
So that tueie Cardinals: the Pope him sende, iwis; 
And hii him asoilede: of that was ido amis. 
And he undude the luther lawes: and grauntede alle 

the gode, 
That Sein Tomas esste: as hii understode. 210 

Of forest and of other thing: that is elderne nome 

He undude, and ther to: is chartre made, iwis. 
Ac after is daye iholde: febliche it was, 
Of King Jon, and of othere: and natheles ther nas, 
Non of hom, that some time: (mid wille thei it nere,) 
Ne grauntede and confermede it: thei it lute wurth 

Vor mani is the gode bodi; that aslawe is thervore. 
To betere ende God it bringe: that vor us was ibore!* 

* Here onds the portion of tho metrical text, omitted in the 
Jlcndd^' MS. 

APPENDIX. - 139 

After Sein Tomas dethe: aboute an 5eres to, 

Ther sprong contek suithe strong: (thei it lutliei' were 

ido,) 220 

Bituene King Henri the olde: and t]ie5onge, midwou: 
Vor the sone aros aje the ftider: and dude him ssame 

Thoru the King of France: Avas do3ter was is wif; 
Vor thoru a vowe of him: the sone bigan that strif. 
Vor the King of Fraunce: and the Erl of Fhiundres 

ther to, 
And Sir Roberd Eid of Leicestre: and Sire Hue 

Bigod also. 
And the King of Scotlond ek: and manie other kni5t, 
With the sone aje [the] fader: hulde with unrijt. 
Hii destruede and robbede: the fader londes, mid wou: 
The father was in Normandie: and deol made ynou. 
He huld it al wreche of God: vor Sein Tomas mar- 

tirdom, 231 

And nathgles with gret poer: to Engelond he com.* 
The Erl Willam of Gloucestere: huld mid him vaste, 
And mani other trewe knijt: so that atte laste,f 
(Ac the olde King at Canterbury: midgode herte and 


* This line is omitted in Hearne's copy, but supplied in his 
notes fi'om the Heralds' MS- with a slight transposition of the 
words. It exists, howevei-, in the Cottonian text, as above. 

f This clause, in all propability, is erroneous, and left so by 
the author; for though the next four lines, (which are here 
printed within parentheses, as by Hearne,) are needful to complete 
the narrative, they are omitted in the Heralds' MS., and v, 239 
is construed with this verse, in the stead of v. 238. 


Hurde is masse of Sein Tomas: and cride him merci, 

Is ost^ and is sone ost: the wule masse ilaste, 
Smite an stronge bataile: so that atte laste,) 
Thoru grace of Sein Tomas: is men overcome 
Hor fon, and the King: of Scotlonde nome. 
And Sir Hue Bigod ek: and the Erl of Leicetre, 210 
Inome was thoru Willam: Erl of Gloucestre. 
Manion ther was aslawe: so that this vair cas, 
The King it thonkede everidel: the godeman Sein 

So that the fader and the sone: acorded were tho, 
Ac the sones herte aje the fader: was ever mo; 
And the bretheren hukle al so: ajen hor fader vaste, 
Vorte the 3onge King Henri; deide atte Laste. 
A Sein Barnabes day: and (as it wokle be) 
Endleve hundred 3er of grace: and eijteti and thre;250 
In Normandje he deyde: and thuike 3er al so, 
Seint Egwine at Evesham: in ssrine was verst ido: 
Glastingburi was ther after: and to jer, ibrojt to 

Vorbarnd, and of King Arthure: the bones verst 


(Ibid. pp. 517-518, ff'. 145''"14G.) 

Tlicr after at Westmunstre: ar the Baronie bi sai,* 
Hii crounede the King ari3t: a "Witesoneday.f 

* Ilc-arne vi sdi. 
f This coronation of Kin<; llciiry III. took piaco on tho 17th 


It was as in tlie ^gy of grace: a* tuelf hundred and 

tuenti 3er, 
And as in the verthe jer: that he verst croune ber. 
The newe wore of Westn)[unstre]: the King bigan 

tho anon, 
After is crouninge: and leide the verste ston. 260 

The King wende tho to Canterbury: and the heiemen 

To nimc+ up Sein Tomas body: and in to ssrine do: 
Arst he adde ileye an erthe: unssrined vifti 3er. 
Of Engelond and of France; so muche folc ther com 

That alle contreye aboute: unnethe avonge it mijte; 
Ther vore hii nome him up: priveliche bi nijte. 

of May, 1220, and the insbrining of Beket on the 7th of July 
fojlovving; which latter day is marked in calendars prior to the 
Reformation thus: — Translatio sancti Thomw 3Iarfp-is, to distin- 
guish it from the day of his death, the 29tli of December, where 
the first of these words is omitted. 

* So Hearne: the MS. has "&." 

+ So the MS., but Hearne reads mine. Cf. Lifc,vv. 2358, 23C0, 

University of California 


305 De Neve Drive - Parking Lot 17 • Box 951388 


Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed.